


THE THING II: Hawke Station

by Anguirus1955



Category: The Thing (1982)
Genre: Antarctica, Body Horror, Gen, Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10101443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anguirus1955/pseuds/Anguirus1955
Summary: Shortly after a horrendous winter storm, the crew of United States Antarctic Research Base "Hawke Station" find themselves investigating the recent loss of contact with US Outpost #31 and a nearby Norwegian camp. Over the course of this investigation, Hawke Station's crew soon find themselves dealing with something more terrifying than anything they could have ever imagined.





	1. Hawke Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After re-establishing communications with McMurdo following a storm, the crew of Hawke Station are tasked with investigating the loss of contact with two other research facilities.

Disclaimer: John Carpenter's THE THING (1982) is property of Universal.

This will be my first Thing fan fiction, but I am not asking any reviewers to go easy on it. If I fuck something up, let me know in your reviews. Criticism that is constructive is highly appreciative, as it points out both the things that are done right _and_ the things that are done wrong, allowing the writer to adapt and grow.

* * *

**Hawke Station**

* * *

Date: Winter Of 1982 - 1983 

**United States Antarctic Research Outpost "Hawke Station"**

Looking out his window as the sun came up, 39 year-old Allison Barclay, often called Bar by everyone else, looked out across the vast expanse of the antarctic tundra. Barclay was one of two men in charge of the station, and while the other man, Charles Hendry, was older and had more military experience, Barclay was the one who was truly in charge. There was white snow as far as the eye could see, apart from the small untouched patches of rock found on the sides of the sparse mountains that were found in certain locations throughout the continent. Barclay could have sworn that he'd been told that Antarctica had no mountain ranges.

As the clouds lifted and the sun shone down on the white frozen water that covered the surface of the continent, Barclay took in a breath as he saw just how much snow had accumulated over the course the most recent blizzard. _Gotta get the flamethrowers,_ Barclay thought to himself as he turned around and finished getting dressed. Allison Barclay was a barrel-chested man with a rather short beard and facial hair. After grabbing his camouflaged winter jacket, Barclay exited the room and made his way down the hallways of Hawke Station.

Most of the other crew were already awake, including the station commander, Charles Hendry, as well as the chief mechanic, Samuel Dutton, who was already in the vehicle garage. Dutton, much like Barclay, was of a large stature and muscular build, although Dutton was easily the more muscular of the two men. In terms of build, Barclay was an Army man who preferred running for exercise, while Dutton was a weight-lifter. He also wore a red baseball cap most of the time, even when indoors. Inside the recreation room, which Barclay passed on his way to the station commander's office, several crew members had made themselves comfortable at the game table.

Barclay walked inside the room, looking at the men who were already enjoying themselves with ping-pong and cards. Doctor Louis Atkins and his assistant, Arnold Thorne, were both playing ping-pong against each other. Thomas Van Wall, the chief helicopter pilot, was engaged in a game of cards with meteorologist Jim Stiles and backup pilot Harvey Jordan. Martin Crenna, a geologist, was busy sleeping in a chair.

"Hey, who wants to melt snow?" Barclay asked as he stepped forward with a smirk on his face. Nobody looked very enthused. "Pomroy's already outside," Van Wall said. "Thought he'd be with the dogs," Barclay said in surprise. "Yeah. He's teachin' them how to use the flamethrowers," Stiles joked with a chuckle. "Dutton's out there too. He's already cleared a path to the garage," Atkins said. "Shovel or fire?" Barclay asked him. "Didn't ask," Atkins responded. Barclay rolled his eyes in response before turning around and exiting the room.

Making his way over to the room where the flamethrowers were kept and checked the fuel levels before securing the canisters to his back and making his way out to the nearest exit. He opened the door inwards, ready to head outside, only to find that a seven foot tall wall of snow and ice was blocking his path. _So... Dutton and Pomroy grab flamethrowers, but they DON'T use the nearest exit? Okay then_ , Barclay thought to himself before stepping back several feet and aiming the torch at the wall of snow blocking his path. "Fire and snow! Fire and snow!" Barclay sang to himself cheerfully as he let loose a stream of fire at the wall of snow.

When he was finally finished, he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He looked out at the white landscape that surrounded him and the station. The stations radio dome was relatively clear, with only patches of snow on top of it. The vehicle garage, a very large shed with a small circular tarmac around it, was currently having its snow walls cleared away by Dutton, who was wearing his signature red cap.

"Hey, Dutton!" Barclay called to the man as he shoveled another load of snow away from the garage doors. Dutton looked over at Barclay. Seeing the flamethrower in his hands, Dutton grinned, knowing that his job was about to get a lot easier. "Grizzly Bar!" Dutton called out in return with a grin. He and a few other members of the station's crew had begun calling Barclay "Grizzly Bar" when the man started growing out his beard some months earlier. Barclay had decided that while he wasn't particularly fond of the nickname, it was still better than being called Alice by the summer crew members who'd learned his first name. It was especially annoying because Alice was short for _Alicia_ , not Allison.

Walking over to Dutton's position, Barclay looked around at the pitiful trenches of snow that the man had dug with his shovel. "I guess we got more snow than we expected from that last storm, eh?" Barclay asked the mechanic. "Actually... I kind of expected _more_ ," Dutton replied.

Barclay looked at the man, raising an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right?" Barclay asked him, prompting the mechanic to shake his head. "I'm serious. First two weeks of winter in Antarctica. I was seriously expecting a lot worse," Dutton said. "How much more snow is blocking the doors?" Barclay asked him. "Enough that you'll need some fire," Dutton said.

Barclay studied Dutton for a moment. "You just wanna see this thing in action, don't you?" Barclay asked him, referring to his flamethrower. Dutton briefly looked away before relenting. "Yes," Dutton admitted reluctantly. "Why not just say so?" Barclay asked him. Dutton merely shrugged his shoulders in response. "Better yet, why didn't you just grab a flamethrower of your own before coming out here?" Barclay asked him.

"I got carried away with shoveling. I was gonna shovel a little bit in front of the base and then grab a flamethrower to melt the rest away, but... I got carried away," Dutton explained. "Fine, whatever," Barclay muttered. "Just stand back. I don't wanna fry you by accident," Barclay said as he motioned for Dutton to get behind him.

**Meanwhile, In The Radio Room...**

Bart Caldwell was busy fiddling with the dials on his equipment while assistant radio operator Tom Sanchez lit up a cigarette. "Could you not do that in here? I don't need this equipment getting gunked up by the smoke," Caldwell said. "Whatever," Sanchez replied flippantly before putting out his cigarette on the nearest table. Tom Sanchez was a thin red-headed man with short-cropped hair, while Bart Caldwell was a stocky man and had brown hair, along with a mustache that he refused to shave, despite the many looks that people gave him for it. Caldwell was also a fan of Jazz music, while Sanchez preferred Rock and Roll, being a huge Beatles fan.

"Come in, McMurdo. This is Hawke Station. We are testing for communications in the wake of the latest winter storm. Please respond," Caldwell requested over the radio. "Uh, Bart? I think I know why you haven't been getting any responses this morning," Sanchez said as he looked down at the floor underneath the table. "Yeah? Why's that?" Caldwell asked him. "You don't have that thing plugged in properly," Sanchez said, pointing at the loose cable on the floor.

Caldwell pushed his chair back and leaned over to peek under the table, seeing that the power cord for the microphone was indeed unplugged. "Do you need glasses or something?" Sanchez asked the older man with a snicker. Caldwell merely sighed in contempt for his assistant before getting on his knees and crawling under the table to plug the cord back into the outlet.

When he crawled back out, he looked up and saw Sanchez standing over him. "Boo!" Sanchez said before chuckling. Caldwell merely frowned in return. "Asshole," he muttered before getting back in his chair and resuming his attempts at contacting McMurdo station.

**In The Green House...**

Botanist Dillon Walters jotted down some notes on a clipboard as he moved from one plant to the next, studying each one carefully. "No changes observed yet," he muttered. "Consistent temperature with minor variations, regardless of season, have yielded a consistent growth rate for the plants in groups A, B, and C," he said to himself. "Group D, however... has shown little to no progress since the end of Summer. The plants grown in this section will require further examination," he said to himself before walking over to the next group of plants in the green house.

"I hope I don't have to start all over again," he muttered as he walked through several rows of hydroponically grown plants. Dillon Walters was a lean man in his early thirties with a short beard and a balding head. His hair was black, and he had a crooked nose. He was also fond of gardening.

Walking over to the vegetable garden, or the Salad Barracks as Kinner, the resident cook, had called it once, Walters opened the door and entered the slightly smaller temperature-controlled room. Looking around at the rows and columns of various tomatoes, lettuce, and zucchini that lined the room, Walters nodded his head in appreciation. "Well, at least we'll have some fresh food by tomorrow," he said to himself as he closed the door behind him and began his daily inspections.

"No signs of any unwanted contaminants," Walters said to himself after a careful inspection of each plant. "Rock wool medium shows no problems, as guaranteed by the supplier," he then added with a smile. Walking over to the very end of the room, Walters knelt down next to the small row of marijuana plants. "Why did I let them plant you in here again?" Walters asked himself as he inspected the plants. "Well... I guess the air _is_ a little cleaner with you guys in here," he said reluctantly.

"But they'd better not sell this shit and get us shut down," Walters then grumbled under his breath.

**The Dining Room/Mess Hall...**

Commander Charles Hendry poured himself a cup of coffee before adding cream and sugar, turning his head as he heard footsteps. "Good morning, Stewart," Hendry said to the scientist who had entered the room. "Good morning, Charles," Stewart Carrington said as he walked over to the coffee pot. "Hey... there's barely enough left for half a cup!" Carrington whined.

"You snooze, you lose," Hendry said with a mirthful chuckle and a smile. Carrington glared at Hendry before sighing in defeat. "I guess I don't really need the caffeine that much anyway," Carrington muttered to himself. Charles Hendry was an Army man in his early sixties. He had been assigned to Hawke Station in order to keep an eye on Barclay, who had been given the antarctic assignment after catching two superior officers, both married but not to each other, having an affair back home.

Hendry was only a few years away from retirement, so he took the assignment as a way of getting a change of scenery before finally settling down somewhere. One last adventure, he'd told himself. Hendry had a large frame, with the lean musculature expected of an Army veteran, especially one who had served in the Korean War. Barclay had also served in a war; the much more recent Vietnam War. Because Hendry had felt that the Korean War had become forgotten by most people, and with Barclay being a veteran of Vietnam, which had received far more attention than the Korean War, there had been tension between the two men for a couple of months until they'd finally settled their differences.

Looking at the young scientist in front of him, Hendry offered the man his cup. "I haven't drank out of it yet," Hendry said. Carrington shook his head in response. "I appreciate the gesture, but... it's yours. Besides, I prefer to drink decaf anyway. Makes me need to go to the bathroom less often," Carrington replied. "Suit yourself," Hendry said.

Stewart Carrington was a biophysicist with a short beard and a balding head, despite only being in his early thirties. His hair was a dark blond color, and he had the most hideous taste in clothing, although his clothing choices were always pragmatic and practical, even if they were sore on the eyes of his colleagues. Prior to leaving for Antarctica, Carrington had been offered a teaching position at the University of Maine, which he had declined for the opportunity to conduct research in the antarctic. He'd regretted that decision after seven months of living at Hawke Station, especially after learning that the teaching position had been given to someone else shortly after he'd left.

A minute later, Jonathan Connant, the station's chief biologist and senior biophysicist, entered the room. Connant was a man of average stature and build, and he was in his early fifties. He also still had a full head of hair, which he sometimes used to tease the younger and balding Carrington, much to the latter's dismay. "Mornin' fellas," Connant said as he walked over to a pantry cupboard and grabbed a ceramic mug. "Good morning, Jonathan," Hendry said after taking another sip of his coffee.

"Morning, Connant," Carrington said unenthusiastically. "Has anyone seen Crenna this morning?" Connant asked the two men. "I think he's in the rec room. Why?" Carrington responded. "He borrowed one of my rulers last week for some kind of experiment and he still hasn't returned it," Connant said before he walked over to the coffee maker. After pouring what was left of the pot into his cup, the older scientist walked out of the room and into the hallway, heading for the rec room.

"Huh. He didn't say anything about my hair this morning," Carrington said. "What hair?" Hendry asked him with a chuckle. Carrington glared at the older man before walking over to the pantry cupboard and grabbing a ceramic mug of his own, grumbling under his breath.

**Back Outside In The Snow...**

Barclay let out a whistle as he melted the last of the snow blocking the doors of the vehicle garage. "I guess now it's-hey, Ralsen," Barclay said as he spotted Benjamin Ralsen, the assistant mechanic, heading towards him and Dutton. Bill Lambert, a mechanical engineer on a temporary assignment at Hawke Station, was close behind. Ralsen and Lambert were both somewhat scrawny men, but Ralsen had grown a small amount of muscle from all of the manual labor he'd been doing at the station since his arrival, while Lambert had only been at the station since the end of the Summer season.

"So, what's the plan for today, Boss?" Ralsen asked Barclay. "Hey, _I'm_ the boss," Dutton said with a smirk. "Get some shovels and start digging out whatever snow is blocking the external station doors," Barclay said firmly. "We don't get to use the flame-" "No, Lambert. No, you do not. Get some shovels. It'll be safer for you anyway," Barclay interrupted the man.

"Yes _sir_ ," Lambert spat before walking away. Ralsen looked at his retreating form before turning back to look at Barclay. "What was that all about?" Ralsen asked him. "He hasn't had any training with the flamethrowers. I don't need him setting himself on fire by accident, or anyone else for that matter," Barclay explained.

"So, do you want me to go get a shovel too?" Ralsen asked Barclay. "Yes, Ralsen. Go get a shovel and start shoveling," Barclay said to him. "And you, Dutton. Go find out where Pomroy is. I wanna know where the dogs are before I start clearing the snow around the kennel area," Barclay said before he stopped talking. He stared out into the distance at a lone figure out in the snow.

"What?" Dutton asked, before turning around to look in the direction of Barclay's gaze. "Is that Silva?" Dutton asked rhetorically. "And his camera," Barclay said as he watched Victor Silva take pictures of the snowy landscape around them. As Silva turned his camera around and prepared for another shot, he looked over at them and waved. Barclay half-heartedly waved back at him.

"You think he's trying to get a picture of you with the flamethrower?" Dutton asked him. "Don't know. Don't care," Barclay replied tersely. He began moving forward, only for Silva to hold out a hand, signaling for him to stop. "Oh, come on. Is he serious?" Barclay asked in frustration as he waited for Silva to finish his first round of picture-taking. "You're actually going to stand here for him?" Dutton asked.

"Might as well. If I go over there now, I'll just have to listen to him ramble about how our positions relative to him can affect the lights and shadows of his shots, and I really don't care to hear about that for the umpteenth time," Barclay said, glancing at Dutton. A few minutes later, Silva waved at them, motioning for them to start moving.

"Go find Pomroy like I said earlier," Barclay ordered Dutton. Dutton nodded his head and made his way over to the other end of the station, where the kennel was located. Meanwhile, Barclay made his way over to Silva, keeping his flamethrower pointed away from the other man as he got closer. "Morning, Bar!" Silva said enthusiastically as he started preparing to move his camera and tripod.

"Morning, Silva," Barclay said before he got close enough to notice the thermos hanging from a clasp on Silva's snow-covered jacket. "So... how long have you been out here?" Barclay asked the photographer. "Oh, about an hour. Maybe longer," Silva replied with a grin. "Uh-huh. Right, and... what exactly are you doing?" Barclay asked him. "Taking pictures," Silva answered.

"Of what? What is there around here that you haven't already photographed?" Barclay asked him. "I just felt like taking pictures of the station after the storm. I took some pictures of the station before the storm hit, so now I'm taking pictures of it afterward. It'll be a record of the station," Silva explained. "Yeah, well... make sure that you let someone know when you're coming out here to take pictures by yourself. I don't need to fry you by accident, and we don't need someone getting lost or freezing to death," Barclay said.

"I told Hendry," Silva said. "He didn't say anything to _me_ ," Barclay said. "Well... I told someone," Silva said. "Well, next time, make sure that it's more than one person. By the way, did you do any shoveling in the time that you've been out here?" Barclay asked the photographer. "I cleared the snow away from the entrance by the kennel," Silva said.

"Funny, I didn't hear the dogs barking this morning," Barclay muttered. "They're used to me by now," Silva said. "Uh-huh. Right. Look, just make sure you don't go overboard with the pictures. It's winter, so we aren't getting anymore supply shipments until Spring, and that means you need to ration what you've got until then," Barclay said. "Oh, I know. I have at least three crates of film in storage," Silva said. "Three _crates?_ " Barclay asked him. "Yeah. Each one's about a foot and a half wide high and wide by two feet in length," Silva explained.

"Just... don't break your camera then," Barclay said. "I have a spare," Silva said. "That doesn't mean you should get careless with it. I don't wanna hear you whining if it gets broken," Barclay said before he walked over to the snow-covered tool shed.

**Back In The Radio Room...**

"Right," Caldwell said as he jotted some notes down on a piece of paper. "We'll make sure to check it out today," Caldwell said. " _Thanks. We've tried contacting Outpost Thirty-One, but we've gotten no response so far. You guys are the second-closest ones other than the Soviet station. We'd feel better if you were the ones to check them out,_ " the radio operator from McMurdo station said. "Don't worry. I'll get Commander Hendry or Captain Barclay to check it out. We'll try contacting Outpost Thirty-One as well in the meantime. Hawke Station, out," Caldwell said before ending the radio conversation.

Sanchez looked at Caldwell with a curious expression. "Did that really just happen? I mean, did they really say that the _Soviets_ are heading their way to drop off an _American_ scientist at their doorstep? I mean, the _Soviets?_ " Sanchez asked Caldwell. "Yes, Tom. They _did_ say that," Caldwell replied as he looked at his notes.

"Now, go get Barclay or Hendry and give them these notes," Caldwell said as he handed the paper to Sanchez. Sanchez rolled his eyes and grabbed the papers with an exasperated sigh before making his way out of the radio room. Caldwell watched the younger man leave the room before returning his attention to the radio. He took out his frequency and channel listings book before attempting to make contact with US Outpost number 31.

"Come in, Outpost Thirty-One. This is Hawke Station. Please respond. Come in, Outpost Thirty-One. Please respond, over." After several minutes of repeating the same thing, Caldwell shook his head with a growl and reset the radio before trying once more. "This is horseshit," he muttered to himself after another failed attempt at contacting the silent American station.

* * *

"Say that again?" Barclay asked Sanchez as he stepped away from the snow plow. "Here," Sanchez said as he handed the notes to Barclay. Barclay looked at the paper carefully. "Are you serious?" he asked the assistant radio operator. "Yeah," Sanchez replied. "You didn't say anything to Hendry, did you?" Barclay asked him. "Not yet," Sanchez replied. Barclay mulled over the new information quietly, biting his lower lip before letting out a breath.

"Okay, go back inside and find out who the closest station is to that location," Barclay said. "It's US Outpost Thirty-One. Caldwell's trying to get through to them right now," Sanchez replied. "What about McMurdo? Have they heard from them either?" Barclay asked him. "No. We're the closest American station. The only other station close enough to the Norwegians is the Soviet station," Sanchez said.

Barclay looked around the outside of Hawke Station. Dutton was already plowing snow away from the vehicle garage with the snowplow, and Ralsen and Lambert were clearing snow off of the helicopter. "Alright, give me a few minutes to finish up out here, and then I'll be back inside. Go back to the radio room and find out if Caldwell's made any progress reaching Outpost Thirty-One yet. I'm gonna go get Hendry after I'm finished out here," Barclay said.

Sanchez nodded his head before turning around and making his way back inside the station, tripping over his boot laces before picking himself up and resuming his trek towards the warmth of the building's interior. Barclay looked back down at the paper that was in his gloved hand. "What a way to start off the winter," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Making his way to the radio room, Barclay heard multiple voices involved in conversation. One of those voices was Hendry's. Stopping just outside the door way of the room, Barclay saw Charles Hendry standing near a table, arguing with Caldwell while Sanchez was busy trying to use the radio. Hearing footsteps behind him, Barclay turned his head and saw Anthony Reynolds, the station's assistant cook.

"Hey, what's with the noise?" Reynolds asked Barclay. Anthony Reynolds was a rather scrawny man, with a clean-shaven face and hair that he had tied into a ponytail. He had a very laid-back personality and when he wasn't cooking, he preferred to spend his time reading mystery and detective novels.

"Just an unusual radio message," Barclay said vaguely before he turned back to walk into the radio room. "Caldwell, have you managed to reach Outpost Thirty-One yet?" Barclay asked the radio operator. "No! I haven't been able to contact them at all. Besides, the blizzard just ended last night, so they're just as likely to have gotten one as well," Caldwell replied.

"Or those soviets are involved," Hendry spat. "Hendry, they're _scientists_ , not soldiers," Caldwell retorted. "Then what are they doing with an American scientist in their clutches? Hm? Answer me that!" Hendry responded with vigor. "Charles, calm down," Barclay said sternly. "Now, Bart, I want you to tell me what the guys at McMurdo told you," Barclay said as he shifted his attention.

"They said that they were recently contacted by the guys at one of the Soviet research stations. The soviets claimed that an American scientist made her way to their station just before a large storm hit them earlier this week," Caldwell began. "The Soviets are planning to take her to an American station, preferably McMurdo," he finished. "Why not Amundsen-Scott?" Barclay asked him. "I'm sure they'd have room under that big dome," he added.

"The last flight from Amundsen-Scott already left for the winter," Hendry said. "Shit," Barclay muttered. "Well, why don't we pick her up and take her to McMurdo?" Reynolds suggested, causing Hendry to scoff. "Better yet, why not take her to Outpost Thirty-One? They're American," Sanchez spoke up. "Are you kidding? No one's heard from Thirty-One for over a week," Caldwell said.

"When did the commies pick this man up?" Hendry asked. "Woman. The scientist is a woman, at least according to the guys at the Soviet station," Caldwell said. "What kind of scientist is she?" Hendry asked. "I don't know. They just said that she's a scientist who traveled from a Norwegian station after... something bad happened," Caldwell said. "What do you mean 'something bad'?" Hendry asked him. "I don't know. They said that she claimed to be from Thule Station, which is a Norwegian research station in the Queen Maude Land area," Caldwell said.

"So, why not take her to another Norwegian station? Like Troll, or that Chinese station, Showa?" Reynolds asked him. "Showa is a _Japanese_ research station, not Chinese. And besides, do you know how far away those stations are from here? Too damn far," Hendry said, correcting him. "Most of those places are a hell of a lot easier to get to than McMurdo, though, so why go through all of the trouble?" Barclay asked. "I _don't_ know," Caldwell said. "I. Do. Not. Know," he reiterated. "Wait... if she's an American scientist, then why didn't she make her way to Outpost Thirty-One?" Sanchez asked.

"We don't even know how far away Thirty-One is from the Norwegian station that this _American_ scientist is supposedly from," Barclay said. "Reynolds, go to the cartography room and get us a map. One that has our research stations listed on it," Hendry ordered. "Uh, why do I-" "Just _do it_ ," Hendry said forcefully. Reynolds nodded his head and took off down the hall.

"Did they tell you anything else about this woman? Her name? Why she was at a Norwegian station?" Barclay asked Caldwell. Caldwell sighed and threw up his hands in exasperation. "Oh my god, for the final time. I. Do. Not. _Know_. They didn't tell me that stuff. I'd have to call back McMurdo and ask them," Caldwell said. "Then do it," Hendry told him.

"I'll get them," Sanchez said from his radio console. "Come in, McMurdo. This is United States Hawke Station calling McMurdo, do you read me, over?" Sanchez asked. " _This is McMurdo responding to Hawke Station, over._ " "Yes," Sanchez whispered to himself. "Uh, hey, McMurdo, you told us earlier about some Soviet guys bringing an American scientist to your doorstep; can you explain a bit more about that? Like, her name for instance?" Sanchez asked.

" _The Soviets said her name was Lloyd. That's all we know. They said their translator is having a difficult time trying to understand half of what she says, so they're bringing her to us within the next two days. Have you guys sent anyone to check out the Norwegian place yet?_ " "Uh, negative. We're still clearing snow off of our helicopter at the moment. We just got out of a pretty bad snow storm last night," Sanchez replied.

" _Well, if you can, try to check it out before tonight. Outpost Thirty-One is the closest, but no one's heard from them since they got hit with a storm a few days ago. We think they tried calling us before it hit, but atmospheric conditions made it difficult for us to hear anything clearly on their end. Every time we called them, we'd get static or no one would respond. If you can, try checking on them too. I know I already asked the other guy who talked to us about this,_ " the McMurdo radio operator said.

Barclay walked over and tapped on Sanchez's left shoulder. "Uh, hold on, my boss wants to talk to you," Sanchez said before he got out of the chair and let Barclay sit down. "This is Captain Alli- Al Barclay speaking. I want you guys to contact the Soviet guys again, make sure that you have a translator, and find out-" "Okay, I found a map!" Reynolds exclaimed as he returned to the room with a large map in his hands. Reynolds walked over to the table where Caldwell and Sanchez had placed their breakfast plates and laid out the map on it.

"Find out if she was part of the station's original crew or if she was a visitor. And find out how the Soviets plan on taking her to you. Call us back when you've done this. We'll be getting ready to fly over in a few hours once we make sure we have the location of the Norwegian research station. Do you already have the name of the station?" Barclay asked.

" _Uh... the Soviets said that Miss Lloyd, Kate Lloyd, was from the Thule Station. They don't know if she was part of their original crew or not. We'll try to find out more in a little bit. Let us know what you find then. McMurdo, out._ " Barclay sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. "Okay... let's look at that map," Barclay said before getting up and walking over to the table where Reynolds had laid down the map.

"There," Caldwell said as he put a finger on the map. "That's Thule Station," he said. "Isn't Thule located in Greenland?" Hendry asked him. "Who cares? Now, where is... there! Outpost Thirty-One," Barclay said as he pointed at the red dot on the map. "They're about eighty kilometers northeast of Thule. That's fifty miles, I think. They're at least a hundred kilometers away from us. And... Lazarev station, that must be the Soviet station we've been hearing about," Barclay said, pointing at another dot.

"They're about one hundred kilometers northwest of Thule station. They're a lot further away, but it looks like there's a plateau, or at least a small mountain area, between Thirty-One and Thule; that might be why Miss America didn't go there," Barclay said thoughtfully. "That's a lot of flying. You guys should probably take a spare fuel canister with you," Reynolds said.

Barclay paused and looked at Reynolds. "Reynolds? Why exactly are you here?" Barclay asked him. "I'm the assistant cook," Reynolds replied. "No. I mean, why are you in this room with us in the first place? What exactly were you coming over here for earlier?" Barclay asked him. "I was gonna ask what everyone wanted to for dinner," Reynolds said.

"Dinner? It's not even noon," Sanchez said. "He's thinking ahead," Hendry said. "That's smart. Getting things ready ahead of time," he added with a smile. "Okay, I'll go get Van Wall and tell him to prep the chopper. Then, I'm gonna go get Atkins. We might need him," Barclay said before grabbing the map and folding it up. He quickly made his way out of the room.

"So, what _do_ you guys want for dinner?" Reynolds asked the remaining people in the radio room.

* * *

**Over An Hour Later...**

Atkins looked down at his travel gear and made sure that his First Aid kit was fully loaded before he and Barclay stepped out the door. Walking outside, Barclay closed the door behind them as they saw Van Wall loading a spare canister of fuel into the back of the helicopter before securing it with Velcro straps. Van Wall stepped back and looked over at Barclay and Atkins with a grumpy frown on his face. "Do we really have to do this?" Van Wall asked sourly.

"Yes, Van. Now quit yer bitchin' and get ready to move. I have a map with us, and Kinner gave us some food for the trip," Barclay said. "I'm not worried about being hungry. I'm worried about taking the bird on a trip so soon after thawing her out," Van Wall said in return. "Are you saying that the helicopter may not be safe to use?" Barclay asked him.

"Well, no. But I-" "Then we're good to go," Barclay said firmly as he reached for his holstered Colt M1911 and patted it to reassure himself. "We have flares with us, right?" Atkins asked as he got into the helicopter. "Yeah. We have flares. Traffic cones, too. Even a portable street light for mile-high traffic lanes," Van Wall said sarcastically.

"Van, just cut the shit already," Barclay said, annoyed. "Whatever," Van Wall mumbled under his breath as he grabbed his goggles and put them over his face before getting into the front of the helicopter. Barclay walked over to the other side and got in the passenger seat, taking out the map and unfolding it in his hands. "You ready?" he asked Van Wall. "No," Van Wall replied tersely as he began his pre-flight check sequence.

"It won't take us that long to get there, Van. Between ninety minutes and two hours," Barclay said. "I feel _so much better_ ," Van Wall quipped sarcastically. Thomas Van Wall was a large burly man with black hair and a recently trimmed beard. He usually wore an old green bomber jacket that his uncle had given to him ten years prior. Unlike the other members of the Hawke crew, Van Wall was originally born in Canada, but his parents had moved to Wisconsin just a few years after his birth.

The rotor blades soon began spinning, and from inside the upper deck of the station, Commander Hendry looked on. "Good luck, fellas," Hendry said quietly to himself. The helicopter slowly lifted into the air, and soon it turned itself around as it made its way over the white landscape beyond the station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: And this is the first chapter of THE THING II: Hawke Station. I was originally going to call it THE THING II: Who Goes There?, but it would seem that someone else has already started a fan fiction story by that name. And, yes, Hawke Station is indeed a reference to Howard Hawkes. Hendry and Carrington are also both taken from the 1951 film as well, and several other characters, such as Barclay and Van Wall, are taken from the original John W. Campbell novella. No, Kate Lloyd will not be making an extensive appearance in this story. She will be present for a small section of one future chapter, and then she'll be whisked away to... wherever.
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter features the investigation of Outpost #31 and Thule Station. I guess... let me know what you think of the story so far in your reviews.


	2. Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew of Hawke Station make their first trip to Outpost 31 and Thule Station as they begin their investigation.

Disclaimer: John Carpenter's THE THING is property of Universal.

* * *

**Investigation**

* * *

Date: Winter of 1982-1983

**Somewhere Over Antarctica...**

Allison Barclay looked down at the map before looking up again. "We should be there soon," he said to Thomas Van Wall. Van Wall nodded his head in affirmation. In the back of the helicopter, Louis Atkins was taking a power nap. Louis Atkins, the primary physician at Hawke Station, stood at 4 feet and eight inches in height. He was forty-nine years old and had jet-black hair. His preferred winter coat was a dark maroon-colored one with an insulated vest lining the interior.

"Hey, Doc!" Barclay called back to the sleeping passenger, only to receive no response. Looking back, Barclay saw that the man was still asleep. "Doc?" Barclay called out again. Atkins only snored in response. "Make the landing bumpy," Barclay said to Van Wall. Van Wall made no motion signaling that he'd heard Barclay. He simply kept his focus on the land and air ahead of him as they neared a small mountainous area.

"Down there!?" Van Wall soon asked Barclay, who was still holding the map. Barclay looked at the map before looking back out, seeing the dark objects below them. "I... I think so. Take us down closer," Barclay said. Van Wall nodded and began to slowly descend. "Yeah, we're definitely close, but... that can't be Outpost Thirty-One, can it?" Barclay asked himself as he saw the blackened shapes in the snow.

As Van Wall moved the helicopter closer to their destination, Barclay began to feel a sense of unease. "Hey, Bar? Are you sure that you read that map right?" Van Wall asked Barclay asked he carefully brought the helicopter down for a landing in a patch of white near the smoking ruins. "Y-Yeah. I'm sure," Barclay answered him reluctantly.

"Eh-huh?" Atkins asked as he woke up from his power nap. "We already there?" he asked as he sat up and looked around. After the helicopter finally settled, Van Wall started shutting off the rotors. "Just wait a couple minutes," he said. Barclay nodded his head and looked back, past the divide, to see Atkins looking around. "You finally awake?" Barclay asked the man. "I think so. But where the hell are we?" Atkins asked him.

"US outpost number thirty-one, according to the map," Barclay replied as the sound of the spinning blades outside began to die down. "Can we get out?" Barclay asked Van Wall. "Just wait a minute. You don't wanna lose your head because you're too impatient," Van Wall replied. When the whirring finally died, Van Wall gave them the OK to get out. Atkins quickly grabbed his medical gear, while Barclay put on an old army cap, with the insignia removed before getting out of the helicopter.

"You guys want me to come along?" Van Wall asked as he looked around and saw the smoking ruins of Outpost 31. "If you want," Barclay replied before turning around and following Atkins as he made his way over to the smouldering ruins of what was once Outpost #31. Atkins stopped walking just long enough for Barclay to catch up to him.

Atkins pointed at the corner area of the main building, where a small dome could be seen. "That part looks the most intact. If there's anyone still alive, that's where they'll be," Atkins said before marching through the snow. Barclay looked over at the blackened and burnt support struts and walls that littered the area. Walking ahead, Barclay saw that a half burnt and wrecked bulldozer was caught inside a destroyed room of some kind.

"Hello!?" Atkins called out as he made his way over to an opening. Walking around the debris, Atkins soon walked through an open doorway and into an empty hallway. "Is anyone here?" Atkins called out again. He received no response as he slowly made a left turn and walked through the structure, taking note of the broken chairs and splintered bits of wood lying around.

"What in God's name happened here?" he asked himself quietly as he turned a corner. Barclay was close behind as the two men looked around at the damaged interior of the station. Snow was already starting cover various areas that had been exposed by collapsed sections of the roof, and there were broken bottles on the floor. Barclay knelt down near one of them and examined it. "Molotov cocktail?" he pondered out loud.

"Huh?" Atkins asked as he turned around. "Broken glass bottle. Seems burnt. It could've been a Molotov cocktail," Barclay said before he stood up. "This place looks like a bomb went off inside," Atkins said. "A bomb would have a spread of some kind, but this destruction; it looks like each room was blown up one-by-one," Barclay said.

"But _why?_ Why would they blow the station up like this?" Atkins asked as snow gently fell through the holes in the ceiling. Looking up through one of them, he saw the clouds above them. "Let's keep moving," Atkins said, leading Barclay down a corridor with fallen struts and burnt walls. The smell of the burnt material caused Atkins to grimace, but he pushed onward, determined to find any possible survivors and provide medical assistance if needed. "Hello?" Atkins called out again as he stopped in front of a room that had been completely obliterated, with a collapsed roof in front of him and Barclay, and snow piling on top of it.

"Looks like someone fought a war in here," Barclay commented as he looked around at the leaning wall to his left. He heard a creaking sound and quickly pushed Atkins behind him and back into the hallway. "Bar, what are you-" "Get back!" Barclay ordered as the creaking sound became loader before turning into a groan as the wall soon collapsed in front of the men, the middle section breaking in half as the top part was caught by part of the roof, before it soon gave way and the entire wall fell down, taking the rest of the roof with it.

Looking into the room, Barclay and Atkins saw that the middle section of the remaining part of the left wall was now confined to only a small portion near the doorway. "We ain't gonna find anyone in here," Barclay said before he and Atkins doubled back, carefully checking each room, only to find the walls burnt and furniture overturned or blown apart. After twenty minutes of searching that hallway and the destroyed rooms connected to it, Barclay and Atkins rounded the corner again and made their way over to the next section of the building.

Looking up at a sign that was covered in soot, Barclay carefully wiped it off, before the sign fell to the snow-covered floor. "I think this was their infirmary... maybe," Barclay said as he and Atkins carefully made their way inside. Snow had fallen onto the metal tables. Walking around the room, Barclay and Atkins saw that many of the cabinets and drawers had been broken and burnt. "This was deliberate," Barclay said to himself as he saw more broken glass on the floor.

"But... why would anyone do this?" Atkins asked curiously. "I don't know," Barclay said as he looked around. After a few more minutes, the duo exited the Infirmary and made their way into the lab next door. "Same as the others," Barclay muttered as he saw the burnt floors and walls, with holes in the roof. "This place was blown to hell," Barclay said with a grimace.

"No shit, Sherlock. But, I still don't understand _why_ ," Atkins said in frustration as he and Barclay exited the room and made their way through the halls. "You said this portion seemed mostly intact, right?" Barclay asked Atkins as they entered the radio room, which, for the most part, had slightly less damage than the other areas. "It looked that way from the outside," Atkins said sheepishly.

Stepping into the room, Barclay looked around at the burnt and singed radio equipment. He walked a bit closer to the various machines that lined that room noticing how they seemed to have deep cuts in them, as opposed to the flame and explosion-based damage that the rest of the outpost had displayed. Kneeling down next to a fallen cabinet, Barclay saw a fire axe lying around the floor. After a few more minutes, Barclay and Atkins returned to the hallway and made their way down another corridor.

"I think these were the sleeping quarters," Atkins said as he and Barclay looked at the way the doorways had been spaced between each other. Barclay nodded his head in agreement as he and Atkins looked into each burnt and snow-filled room. Only two rooms still had their ceilings intact, and even those had severe damage. "This place is a graveyard," Barclay muttered as he and Atkins turned around and made their way back to the demolished recreation room with the bulldozer.

"I don't understand. Even if everyone here had perished, there should still be some bodies lying around somewhere, right?" Atkins asked. "That's a good point. Even if everyone's dead, where are the bodies?" Barclay asked in agreement, before he saw that the helicopter was empty.

"Where's Van Wall?" Atkins asked. Barclay looked around and tried to see if he could spot the pilot. "Maybe he's near the other end of the building," Barclay suggested. "Near that shack?" Atkins asked as he pointed toward a fallen tower with a wooden shack on its side. As the two men marched forward, staying near the exterior of the building, Barclay heard Atkins yelp as he fell over. "Doc, you okay?" Barclay asked as he rushed over to the man's side.

Barclay quickly helped pull Atkins up from the snow. "What happened?" Barclay asked him. "I tripped. Over what, I don't know," Atkins said before he reached back down to grab his bag of medical gear. Barclay stepped forward to help him when he felt pressure underneath his boot, causing him to step back and kneel down. He started feeling for something in the snow, before wiping it away with Atkins' help.

Soon, the two men found themselves staring at a burnt corpse. "Well... I guess we found someone," Barclay said dryly. "Who is it, though?" Atkins asked curiously. He and Barclay searched the burnt remains for any sign of ID. "Nothing. Whoever he was... we'll have to find out later," Barclay said as he stood back up. Atkins grimly nodded in agreement.

"Come on, Bar. Let's go find Van Wall," Atkins said, before he saw Barclay looking over his shoulder. Atkins turned around and saw Van Wall kneeling on the ground near an exposed part of the rec room, on the other side of the bulldozer. Walking closer, the two men saw that Van Wall was inspecting the remains of what looked like a bar. In front of him, however, were two snow-covered and frost-bitten bodies, both sitting opposite of each other.

"What have you found?" Barclay asked the pilot. "I think they were part of the crew," Van Wall said as he pointed to the two snow-covered bodies in the snow. One of them, a bald black man, held a flamethrower, while the other one, a white man with a beard and a cowboy hat, had a large blanket around him, and the tip of a flamethrower could be seen underneath and opening in the fabric. A green glass bottle of J&B Rare Blend was sitting between the two men, empty.

"Any idea who they are-err- _were?_ " Atkins asked. "They're dead," Van Wall said. Barclay looked at the two men and solemnly nodded his head. "Yeah," Barclay said as he knelt down next to Van Wall and reach over to the bearded man's jacket, unzipping it to feel for a pulse. Van Wall was right, however, as the man was dead. Cold and blue, the man could answer no questions, except for his identity as Barclay opened one of the pockets on the man's jacket and retrieved a set of dog tags.

"R.J. MacReady," Barclay read out loud. He looked over at the other corpse. "Alright, who're you?" Barclay asked as he felt around for some kind of dog tag. "Nothing," he said after a minute of searching. Barclay stowed the dog tags in his pocket before standing back up. "We'll leave them here for now, and pick them up on the way back," Barclay said.

"Way back?" Van Wall asked him. "From the Norwegian camp," Barclay clarified. "We're still going?" Van Wall asked him. "Yes, Van. We're still going there. We have a job to do, now go make sure that the helicopter has enough fuel before we take off again," Barclay said in response. Van Wall sighed in consternation before turning around and walking back towards the helicopter.

As Atkins stood up, he looked over at the rest of the rec room before his eyes widened and he saw some shapes over by the bulldozer's side. Near what was clearly an overturned pool table were two burnt corpses, both of which were almost unrecognizable, but they were human nonetheless. Atkins walked over and saw that one of them had earrings stuck in a charred ear. "I can't believe I missed 'em earlier," Atkins said to himself.

"Speaking of which, I'm gonna go back over that way again and see if there's anything by that end of the building," Barclay said as he carefully made his way out of the remains of the rec room and trudged through the snow, making sure to step around the burnt corpse when he got near it. This caused him, however, to step on something else. Pausing in his journey, Barclay stepped back and reached down into the snow, picking up what looked like the burnt frames of someone's eyeglasses.

Looking back over at the burnt corpse, Barclay moved over and gently placed the eyeglass frames into a spot on the corpse where they would hold. Frowning at the sight, Barclay sighed and stepped away, once again making his way towards the other end of the station. After a few minutes of careful trudging through the snow, Barclay came upon a somewhat intact portion of the structure. He looked up and saw that the second-story structures on the roof were still intact, albeit somewhat damaged.

Looking at a large hole in the wall, which had clearly been blown outwards from within, Barclay marched forward. Stopping just outside the opening, Barclay carefully peeked inside and looked up for any signs of structural damage from within. When he was satisfied that the building would not collapse on him, he cautiously stepped forward and moved around what seemed to be an empty and burned out storage room.

Looking over, Barclay saw what seemed to be an electrical access panel on the far side of the wall near a doorway. The door had been blown off its hinges, and was lying in pieces on the floor between Barclay and the other end of the hallway. Stepping over to the blown apart doorway, Barclay hesitantly stepped through, bringing out his flashlight and shining it throughout the room, until he found an overturned refrigerator. _That thing doesn't look too badly damaged. There could be something in there that might clue us in on what happened here_ , Barclay thought to himself.

Stepping over to the fridge, Barclay hefted it up with all his might and placed it on its side before opening it. As the doors opened, he saw a small case with a lock on it. Taking it out, he found that the lock was in good condition, but the key was missing, at least until he looked over at the inside of the open fridge door and saw the key taped to it. Grabbing the key, Barclay unlocked the lock and opened the case, seeing an audio cassette recorder inside, along with an audio tape sealed in a plastic bag.

Barclay quickly locked the case back up and carried it with him as he resumed his search through the wreckage of the station. After a few more minutes, Barclay turned back and made his way outside. He saw Van Wall talking to Atkins over by the rec room, pointing at the bodies on the ground. Barclay quickly marched over to their location and cleared his throat to get their attention.

"How's our fuel?" Barclay asked Van Wall. "We haven't passed the PSR* yet, so we might make it to the Norwegian camp before the fuel tank needs to be re-filled," Van Wall said. "Okay. Keep an eye on it. Once we get to the Norwegian camp, though, I want you to refuel the chopper regardless of fuel levels," Barclay said. Van Wall nodded his head in affirmation before heading back to the helicopter.

Barclay then turned his attention to Atkins, who was looking over the burned remains of the two men near the broken pool table on the floor. "Find anything on them?" Barclay asked Atkins. "This one's missing his forearms," Atkins said as he pointed to the shorter of the two men, whose right and left forearms were indeed missing.

"Do you think it happened before or after he was burned?" Barclay asked Atkins. "Before. Those are the only obvious wounds that I can see. As for the other one... I may have to take him back to the lab so I can perform an autopsy. I'd like to take all of these bodies back with us, if we can," Atkins said in response. "Maybe on the trip back," Barclay responded.

"Bar... I don't know if you've noticed, but these two men were burned differently from the one outside. Now, the roster for Outpost Thirty-One listed twelve men for the winter. So far, we've only found five bodies. We're still missing seven others," Atkins explained. "Well... all things considered, the remaining bodies might be buried under heavy snow, or they might be lying in pieces and we just missed them," Barclay said as he glanced at the burnt and ruined remains of the research station around them.

It was at this point that Atkins finally noticed the case that Barclay was carrying. "What's that?" Atkins asked him. "This? Well... hopefully something that can shed light on what happened here," Barclay said. Atkins walked over to inspect the case, noticing the lock and keyhole. "Do you have the key for it?" he asked Barclay. "Yeah. It was inside an overturned refrigerator at the other end of the camp," Barclay replied.

"This is real weird," Atkins muttered to himself as he thought about Barclay's words. He looked back down at the two frozen corpses on the floor of the bar, and then back to the case in Barclay's hands. "What did you say is in this case?" he asked Barclay. "An audio cassette player, along with an audio tape," Barclay replied. "Keep that safe until we return to Hawke," Atkins said. Barclay nodded his head. "I intend to. It may be the only record of what happened here," Barclay added.

"Hey! Are you guys ready!?" Van Wall asked from the helicopter. Barclay and Atkins looked at each other. "It's gonna be a long trip. If we wanna get back to Hawke before too long, we need to head over to the Norwegian camp _now_ ," Atkins said. Barclay nodded his head before turning around and walking over to the helicopter. Atkins took one last look behind at the destroyed rec room and the bodies on the ground before making his way back to the helicopter, following Barclay through the snow.

* * *

**Hawke Station...**

Charles Hendry walked into the radio room and looked at Caldwell sleeping in his chair, while Sanchez was nowhere to be found. "Caldwell?" Hendry asked as he walked over to the sleeping man. "Caldwell," Hendry said with a frown. "Caldwell!" he shouted, waking the man up. "Huh!?" Caldwell asked in confusion. "Have you heard back from McMurdo yet?" Hendry asked him. "Yes. I sent Sanchez out to find you half an hour ago," Caldwell said.

"Well? What did they say?" Hendry asked him. "They said that the Soviets are gonna take Dr. Lloyd to Vostok Station. They'll stay there for the night, and then they'll make their way to McMurdo tomorrow morning," Caldwell said. Hendry frowned at this information. "Do we have any storms heading our way?" he asked Caldwell. "Ask Stiles or Silva. _Those guys_ are meteorologists," Caldwell retorted.

"Silva spends too much time with his damn cameras to be a weatherman," Hendry spat. "Hey, it's his field," Caldwell said. "Could've fooled me," Hendry said.

"Hey, Hendry! I've been looking all over for you!" Sanchez said as he returned to the radio room. Hendry and Caldwell both looked at Sanchez with flat expressions on their faces. "What?" Sanchez asked them, confused by their response.

* * *

**Thule Station...**

Barclay and Atkins stepped out of the helicopter and looked at the snow-covered remains of the Norwegian research station. "Talk about deja vu," Atkins said with a frown. He and Barclay both started walking over to the nearest building, trudging through the snow as they looked for any signs of survivors. "Same shit as Thirty-One," Barclay muttered as he saw the blown apart walls and doorways of the station.

"Should we even bother?" Barclay asked rhetorically. "Yes," Atkins said firmly as he made his way over to one of the few intact-looking entrances. The door was open, but it didn't seem to be burnt like the rest of the station. Stepping into the dark hallway, Atkins shone his flashlight down on the ground. "Hey, Bar!" Atkins called out. Barclay quickly jogged over to the doctor's side. "What? What is it?" Barclay asked him worriedly.

"Footprints," Atkins said as he shined the light on the floor. Snow and frost had covered the floor, but it was apparent that someone had been there after the structures were damaged. "Do you think they're still here?" Barclay asked him. "No. These look like they've been here for a while, but I doubt they were made before this place was torched," Atkins said. "Are you sure?" Barclay asked him.

"Not one hundred percent, but that's the way it seems," Atkins replied. "I didn't know you were a crime scene analyst," Barclay said. "I'm not. Now come on, let's move," Atkins said as he followed the shallow boot prints through the snow and ice-filled halls of the desolate research station, its burned remains offering little clues to the two men of the horrors that its inhabitants had experienced little more than a week earlier. The two men soon came upon a door with an axe stuck in its frame.

"Okay," Barclay said flatly with a raised eyebrow as he inspected the door. Walking inside the room beyond the door, the two men soon found the snow and ice-covered rooms to have suffered similar fates to those of Outpost 31. Soon, the two men came upon what appeared to be the radio room, along with the frozen corpse inside. Inspecting the man in the chair, Barclay and Atkins both noticed the frozen blood descending from the man's wrists and throat.

"Suicide," Barclay stated. "Why? What the hell happened here?" Atkins asked in a horrified manner. Barclay looked the corpse up and down before he saw an opening to another room, with barren desks and tables. "Let's keep moving," Barclay said shakily. With every new discovery, more and more questions began filling his head. "Bar... I don't think we're going to find any survivors," Atkins said in a defeated tone.

"Probably not," Barclay agreed grimly. "Still, we should at least check out the place and see if we can find any clues. Outpost Thirty-One had a tape recorder hidden in a fridge, so maybe someone left something behind here too," Barclay said as he continued moving forward, occasionally reaching to his gun's holster to reassure himself of his own safety.

"I don't think you're gonna need that," Atkins said after Barclay patted his holster for the third time. "I'd rather be safe than sorry," Barclay said before he and Atkins exited the rooms and returned to the hallway. "Let's check up there," Atkins said, noticing a doorway near the end of the hall. The two men quietly moved forward, hearing only the sound of their foot steps and their own breathing as they moved through the ruins of Thule Station.

Entering the room, Barclay and Atkins walked onto a landing next to a short wooden staircase in what had once been a storage room. Inside the room, however, was a large block of ice, with the middle portion having been excavated. "Well, _this_ is new," Barclay muttered to himself as he walked down the wooden stairs. Atkins followed him and walked around the large block of ice in the center of the room, examining it closely.

"Something was inside it," Barclay said as he stepped closer and got a better look at the excavated section. "A fossil of some kind?" Atkins pondered out loud. "Maybe. Let's keep looking for another thirty minutes, then we'll head back," Barclay said. "Are we stopping back at Outpost Thirty-One when we're done?" Atkins asked him.

Barclay looked at Atkins pensively, weighing the option in his head. "I don't know. I'll let you know when we've finished searching this place," Barclay replied before he made his way out of the room and back into the empty and burnt hallways of the main building. Making his way outside, Barclay noticed Van Wall entering the other building. Barclay quickly marched through the snow to catch up to the helicopter pilot.

"Hey, did you refuel the chopper?" Barclay asked him. Van Wall turned around to look at him and nodded his head. After you guys went inside that building over there. Have you found anything, or anyone, so far?" Van Wall asked him. "We found a frozen corpse in the radio room. Poor bastard slit his own wrists and throat," Barclay relayed. "Christ," Van Wall muttered in response.

"So... are we heading straight back to Hawke Station, or do you want to stop back at Outpost Thirty-One to collect those bodies?" Van Wall asked Barclay. "I think... we'll head back to Thirty-One, grab the bodies, and then haul our asses back to Hawke Station. I wanna come back here tomorrow, though," Barclay said. "Uh-huh. So-wait, what? Bar, just what the hell do you wanna come _back_ for?" Van Wall asked him.

"I want Silva out here with his camera. If we're gonna find out just what happened, then we're gonna need to start collecting evidence, and taking pictures," Barclay explained to the pilot. Van Wall rolled his eyes before letting out a sigh. "Okay. Fine. I'll fly us back out here tomorrow, but you'd better make sure that you collect _everything_ that you need on the way back today and tomorrow. The days are getting shorter, Bar, and I don't like flying at night. Not in the winter," Van Wall said.

"Fair enough. Let's check out whatever's left of this place and then get Atkins. We'll be leaving soon enough anyway," Barclay said before he joined Van Wall in exploring the burnt down structure.

* * *

**Hawke Station, A Couple Hours Later...**

Geologist Martin Crenna looked up from the book he was reading as Jim Stiles and Harvey Jordan started arguing like children over who had one their most recent card game. "It was a winning hand!" Jordan declared. "Was not! My hand was better, and you know it!" Stiles shot back. "Boys, boys. Please, you're _both_ terrible at card games, so give it a rest," Crenna said gently.

Crenna's attention was soon drawn over to the main entrance of the rec room as Sanchez walked inside, marching past Pomroy and Ralsen at the pool table and heading straight for the bar. "Hey, Tom? You okay?" Crenna asked him. Martin Crenna was a man in his sixties, with black hair that was turning gray in many places. His forehead had wrinkles, along with his wrists and hands, which were calloused from age and hard labor. His brown eyes, though, were as sharp as an eagle's, and his hearing was still decent enough. He also had a crooked nose, and a few metal fillings in his mouth; a result of having an uncontrollable sweet tooth. He also had two small earrings on his left ear near the bottom lobe.

Ignoring Crenna's question, Sanchez walked straight over to the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass, and then poured it. He shot it straight back into his throat, one after another, before he was satisfied. "Um, Sanchez? Try leaving some of that for the rest of us, okay?" Bill Lambert said as Sanchez turned around and leaned back against the banister of the bar.

"Like hell. I fucking needed that," Sanchez said tiredly. "I swear, if Hendry doesn't back off, I'm gonna take my microphone and ram it down his throat. Or, better yet, I'll shove it up his ass," Sanchez spat. "What are you talking about?" Crenna asked him as he placed a bookmark in his book and set it down before getting up from his chair. "Hendry... has been _hounding_ me and Caldwell for the past several _hours_... to constantly call up McMurdo and ask them about the 'Commies' that rescued what's-her-name from the freezing cold! I'm sick of it! Every five goddamn minutes, Hendry wants to know what the Soviets are up to, like we're the FBI or something!" Sanchez ranted.

Lambert walked over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of bourbon before pouring himself a small glass. He looked over at the rest of the group and brought out a few more empty glasses. "Anybody else want some? I mean, if he's got more to say, I think we all might need it," Lambert offered before taking a swig of his glass.

"Any time I leave for the bathroom, Hendry wants to know why I left my post! Any time I grab a bite to eat, he wants to know what I've heard! What's McMurdo saying? Where are the commie devils? God _DAMN!_ " Sanchez ranted. The other station personnel in the room quickly converged on the bar and took Lambert up on his offer.

A minute later, as Sanchez continued his rant, Victor Silva and Dillon Walters both entered the room, whereupon everyone heard the sound of an approaching helicopter outside. Looking out through the windows at the sky as it was beginning to set, the group saw the helicopter returning from its trip. "Finally, now Hendry can bother someone else," Sanchez muttered as he exited the room, followed by the others as they all grabbed jackets and coats from the wall-mounted racks near the doors.

Exiting the building, the group watched as the helicopter slowly set down, waiting for the blades to eventually stop spinning before cautiously making their way over to the opening doors of the vehicle. Barclay stepped out first, with Atkins opening the doors of the passenger area and calling for the group to grab stretchers from the infirmary. "What did you guys find out?" Pomroy asked Barclay. "I'll tell you when we get inside," Barclay responded tiredly.

**The Infirmary...**

The bodies of the two men from Outpost 31 had been laid out on separate examination tables by Atkins and Thorne, while Carrington and Connant had made their way over to the room to see what the commotion was about. Eventually, the rest of Hawke Station's crew had also made their way into the infirmary. "You couldn't find anyone else?" Carrington asked Barclay and Atkins as he looked at the two frost-bitten bodies. The flamethrowers had been removed from the men and were currently undergoing inspection by Dutton, to ensure that the fuel tanks weren't in danger of rupturing or exploding.

"The only other bodies were burned up too bad," Barclay replied as he leaned against one of the counters. "How many did you find?" Hendry asked him. "Five. We found five bodies, these two included," Barclay replied. "Wait, the roster said there were _twelve_ men stationed at Outpost Thirty-One," Arnold Thorne said.

Arnold Thorne, the station's assistant physician, was a much younger man than Atkins, and had short black hair and dark skin. He was the only black man at Hawke Station for the winter, as the other three men had already departed weeks earlier to catch a flight out by McMurdo. Thorne also had a small mustache, and a gold filling, having lost a tooth years earlier after slipping on a wet floor and chipping one of his teeth, requiring total removal of the tooth at the time.

"What happened to the other seven?" Thorne asked. "Don't know. We couldn't find the bodies anywhere, but given how much snow there was, it's possible that the others are somewhere either outside the wreckage or buried under the rubble," Barclay said. "Wreckage?" Hendry asked with concern. "Bar, what did you find at Outpost Thirty-One?" Hendry asked him seriously.

"There isn't much of it left," Barclay stated. "The place was burned to the ground. Some parts of the structure were intact, but the place is basically a grave now. There's no chance of finding survivors. Never was," Barclay clarified. "How long have these men been dead?" Lambert asked as he looked at the bodies.

"Almost a day, at least. No residual warmth or anything," Atkins spoke up. "We would've had to have flown out _yesterday_ to have any chance to saving them, if even that," Atkins elaborated as he started looking for some form of identification on the bodies. "Bar, didn't you find some dog tags on the one guy?" Atkins asked. Barclay shifted before reaching into one of his pockets to pull out the dog tags he'd found.

"Which one do they belong to?" Hendry asked. "The one with the beard," Barclay replied. "R.J. MacReady," he said out loud as he looked at the bearded man's body. "Van says that he was probably their helicopter pilot," Barclay added, pointing at the flight jacket that MacReady was wearing, along with the cowboy hat behind his head.

"What's with the hat?" Silva asked as he looked over the body. "That reminds me," Barclay said as he snapped his fingers. "Silva, I'm heading back out there tomorrow, and you're coming with me," Barclay told him. Silva looked at Barclay with wide eyes. "Wait, me? Why me?" Silva asked him curiously. "We're going to conduct a more thorough investigation of the two camps, and I need that camera of yours," Barclay explained.

"You can take my spare, if you'd like," Silva offered. "No, Silva. I need someone with an eye for detail; someone who'll see something I might miss when I look around," Barclay said. "Plus, I want you to take pictures the two camps," Barclay added. "Wait, two?" Silva asked him. "Hey, that's right," Caldwell said. "Yeah. What did you find at the Norwegian station then?" Hendry asked Barclay.

"Same thing. Place was burned down. We only found _one_ corpse at the Norwegian camp, though. Radio operator had slashed his wrists and his throat. He'd been dead far longer than any of the guys at Outpost Thirty-One," Barclay replied with a solemn sigh. "How many people were station there?" Hendry asked him.

"I don't know. We'd have to check the roster for that one, or maybe contact McMurdo," Barclay said. "Do it yourself. I'm sick of constantly checking in with McMurdo today," Sanchez spat, glaring at Hendry while he did so. "What's _your_ problem?" Barclay asked. "Were there any Soviet weapons found at the camps?" Hendry asked, prompting Barclay to look at him incredulously.

"No," Barclay said firmly. "No sign of any Soviet activity. I don't think they're involved," Barclay added, keeping his gaze locked with Hendry's. "Are you sure? No tracks? No clothing, or hats or any-" " _No_ , Hendry. There was no sign that anyone other than the stations' own residents had been involved," Barclay said firmly, frowning at Hendry in annoyance.

"Ah-ha!" Atkins said as he pulled the front of the other corpse's pants down. "You seem really excited to see another man's undergarments, Doc. Is there something you'd like to tell all of us?" Ralsen asked him. "I found his name," Atkins said. "Childs. It's stenciled on his boxers," he explained to the group. "Congratulations, Atkins," Barclay said sardonically.

"I'm gonna go back and call McMurdo; let them know what we've found," Caldwell said with a sigh before turning around. "Wait for me, Bart," Barclay said as he walked around the examination tables and followed after the heftier man. "Don't forget to mention the block of ice!" Atkins called out. Barclay nodded his head before disappearing into the hallway.

Everyone turned their attention to Atkins. "Block of ice?" Stiles asked him. "At the Norwegian camp," Atkins clarified. "Wouldn't a block of ice melt inside of a burning building?" Silva asked him. "The room was frozen over, with frost on everything and a hole in the roof. I don't think it was touched when everything else went to hell," Atkins explained.

**The Radio Room...**

"Yes, we investigated both camps," Barclay said. " _You're sure that they're both destroyed? Any idea what caused it?_ " the McMurdo operator asked him. "Fire. Explosions? I found evidence of Molotov cocktails and it looked like someone had raided several crates of dynamite at the American station," Barclay said. " _Any idea why it happened?_ " the operator asked him. "No idea at this time. We'll be continuing our investigation tomorrow. I'll have someone bring a camera along so that we can gather evidence better. One more thing: I found an audio cassette recorder hidden inside a refrigerator at Outpost Thirty-One. I'm gonna listen to it tonight or tomorrow and see if it offers any clues as to what the hell happened," Barclay said.

" _Okay. Doctor Lloyd should be here by tomorrow evening. We'll convene with you over the radio after she arrives to help put this story together,_ " the operator said. "Wait, who?" Barclay asked him. " _Say that again?_ " the McMurdo operator asked him. "I asked you who's Doctor Lloyd?" Barclay asked.

" _She's the American scientist that the Soviet's picked up. The woman from the Norwegian camp? The reason this whole investigation got started in the first place?_ " the operator reminded him. "Oh. Sorry," Barclay said ashamedly. Caldwell merely shook his head in disappointment at the man. "Okay. So, I'll be heading out tomorrow morning to continue the investigation, and then I'll contact you guys in the afternoon or in the evening to hopefully speak with this Doctor Lloyd and find out what she knows. Hawke Station, out," Barclay said before ending the broadcast.

"You didn't tell any of us about this tape that you found," Caldwell said in admonishment to Barclay. "I didn't think to tell anyone at the time. It's still out in the chopper. I'm gonna go out there and get it in a few minutes," Barclay responded as he spun in his chair. "By the way... how much has Hendry been hawking on you guys about the Soviets today?" Barclay asked.

Caldwell grimaced as he mentally recalled the day. "A lot. Let's put it that way: a lot," Caldwell said with a facetious smile. "Every time we'd leave to go to the bathroom, he'd be on us, wondering why we weren't constantly asking McMurdo about what the Soviets are doing with Doctor Lloyd or they'd heard anything else about her from the Soviets. I was just about ready to knock him upside his head when you guys got back," Caldwell explained.

"Hn. Let Sanchez sleep in tomorrow morning, just an hour longer than usual," Barclay said as he got up from the chair and walked over to the doorway to the main hallway. "And take it easy for the rest of the night," Barclay said as he glanced back at Caldwell before exiting the room. "Oh, by the way," Barclay began as he walked back into the room, "What are Kinner and Reynolds cooking up tonight?"

"Some kind of rib roast, I think. It's either that or spaghetti... again," Caldwell replied with a frown and a sigh as he reclined into his chair. "Hm. Well, fortunately for me, I like _both_ options," Barclay said with a smile before exiting the room again. "Good for you," Caldwell said dryly as he spun around in his chair. He then wheeled the chair over to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

"After the day I've had," Caldwell said to himself, "I need this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Okay, so as you may have noticed, there hasn't been any Thing action so far. That's because I'm making this a slow burn story. Right now, I'm focusing on how the men of Hawke Station are dealing with the mystery of what happened to Outpost 31 and Thule Station, allowing me to also develop their characters and backstories so that each one can have more distinct personalities. This way, when everything goes to hell, you readers can hopefully be more invested in the story than if I didn't develop these characters.
> 
> PSR stands for Point of Safe Return, and often refers to how much fuel has been used up or is still remaining for a particular transportation vehicle.
> 
> And, as always, let me know what you think of the story so far in your reviews.


	3. A Word Of Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay continues his investigation of the destruction of Outpost 31 and Thule Station, making some very disturbing discoveries in the process.

Disclaimer: John Carpenter's THE THING is property of Universal.

* * *

**A Word Of Warning**

* * *

Date: Winter of 1982 - 1983

**United States Antarctic Research Outpost "Hawke Station"**

" _Nobody... Nobody trusts anybody._ " Barclay hit the STOP button on the cassette player before looking down at the notes he'd written. He pressed the PLAY button again and finished listening to the last bit of the log. "So, he _was_ the helicopter pilot," Barclay said after the tape ended. He carefully rewound the cassette back to the beginning before taking it out of the player and sticking it back in its plastic bag.

Leaning back against his chair, Barclay sighed and rubbed his face. He jotted down a few more notes in his notebook before closing it and getting ready for bed. "Body-snatching aliens. What's next?" he asked himself incredulously. Barclay was now starting to convince himself that the crew of Outpost 31 had simply gone stir crazy or had instead suffered from a severe case of cabin fever. Still, the block of ice from the Norwegian camp _did_ cast a shadow of doubt on his thoughts.

Sighing in frustration, Barclay decided that he would be better off waiting until morning to try figuring out just what had happened. MacReady's tape, while illuminating at first, had soon become a source of frustration, as Barclay found it difficult for himself to believe anything that had been recorded. "When did the world stop making sense?" he asked himself.

* * *

**DAY 02**

* * *

"There's nothing wrong with these men, physiologically I mean," Atkins said as he looked at the blood results. "No alcohol. No drugs. No visible trauma to the head. Just frost-bite from below-freezing temperatures," he added as he looked Barclay and Hendry in the eyes. "Then the problem must have been mental. They had to have gone crazy somehow," Hendry said solemnly.

"Caldwell said that Doctor Lloyd would be delivered to McMurdo this afternoon, right?" Barclay asked Hendry. "Yes. That's what we were told," Hendry replied with a nod of his head. "We can ask her what happened at the Norwegian camp later," Barclay said. "I'm gonna go find Van Wall and Silva. We're taking a trip back to Thirty-One and the Norwegian camp," he added.

"You said there were still three more bodies over there, right? You plan on bringing them back with you today?" Hendry asked him. "Maybe. See, last night, I was listening to that audio cassette I found at Thirty-One," Barclay said. "Audio cassette? What audio cassette?" Hendry asked him. "You didn't tell anyone about it?" Atkins asked him.

"It kind of slipped my mind after we got back," Barclay replied. "Alright, so, what did you hear on it?" Hendry asked him. "Well, it was recorded by our helicopter pilot over here," Barclay said as he pointed at the body of R.J. MacReady. "He said that the whole incident started when two Norwegians chased a sled dog to their station. They were in a helicopter, and one of them was shooting at the animal. Everything just goes downhill from there," Barclay explained.

"What else did it say?" Hendry asked him. "He said... he said... I really don't know how to say this, but everyone at the station got it into their heads that they had been infiltrated by alien doppelgangers," Barclay said. Atkins and Hendry looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Hey, I'm not the one who said it," Barclay pointed out, defending himself. "Aliens? Little green men from outer space?" Hendry asked him.

"Not little green men; monsters that can perfectly imitate other life forms, apparently," Barclay clarified. Atkins snorted. "Like the body snatchers? Eh? Like Invasion of the Body Snatchers?" Atkins asked him incredulously. "Doc, you were at the camps. You _saw_ the destruction at both places. We can't make light of this," Barclay said.

"Bar? Are you saying that you _believe_ this mad man's ramblings?" Hendry asked him. "I don't know right now, okay? But I do know that the Norwegians found something buried in ice. I do know that the Norwegians then burned down their camp and apparently either killed themselves and each other, and two of the three survivors decided to hop into a helicopter and chase down a sled dog with a rifle," Barclay shot back. "And I most definitely know that shortly afterward, Outpost Thirty-One descended into chaos and paranoia. Now, I don't know what caused it, and I refuse to accept that a shape-shifting alien did this without any proof. But I do know that we have a duty to continue investigating this incident until we _do_ know exactly what happened. So, in a couple of hours, I'm heading back out there," Barclay said.

"MacReady mentioned in the tape that he flew out to a crater that the Norwegians had been studying a few miles northeast of their camp. When we're done at the camp, we're gonna check it out," Barclay added before he turned around and left the infirmary.

* * *

"Bar, are you serious?" Van Wall asked Barclay as he fueled the helicopter. "Van, listen to me," Barclay said. "I _am_ listening, Bar. I just don't see the point," Van Wall replied. "You know about the ice block, but none of us know where the Norwegians _found it_ ," Bar explained. "You just told me that they took it from a crater a few miles away from their camp. What's there to figure out?" Van Wall retorted.

"Because I want to know what else was found in that crater," Barclay said. He remembered MacReady's words on the audio cassette, but he had to see for himself if the man had been telling the truth or if he had actually gone crazy. He _needed_ to know the truth.

"Fine," Van Wall said with a sigh. "But with all of this flying in one day, I'm gonna need to bring a spare fuel _drum_ ," Van Wall said. "I saw some spare drums lying around the American and Norwegian camps yesterday," Barclay said. "Bar, those could all be empty. Hell, they could be booby-trapped! I don't wanna take that risk," Van Wall said. "Fine. keep the spare fuel drum. But I don't wanna hear you complain about the extra weight," Barclay said. "Fair enough," Van Wall said in response.

"And use the bathroom before we take off. I don't wanna hear you whining about that either," Barclay said before turning around and heading back inside. "Sure thing... jackass," Van Wall muttered under his breath.

* * *

**Thule Station...**

Silva let out a breath as he carried his camera out of the helicopter. "Yikes," he said as he surveyed the destruction. "What happened here?" he asked as he carefully trudged through the snow. "Before you start out here, there's something inside that I want you to look at," Barclay said as Silva began setting up his camera's tripod. "Strap the tripod to your back or something, but keep that camera steady in your hands," Barclay said.

"Okay, but which building are we going into? You said 'inside' so I assume you're talking about the inside of one of these buildings," Silva responded. "It's inside that building over there," Barclay said, pointing at the snow-covered building that he and Atkins had explored the previous day. "Come on, I'll show it to you," Barclay said before he started walking over to the building. Silva nodded his head and carried his camera as he trudged through the snow behind Barclay.

Entering the building, Silva looked around at the frost, ice, and snow-covered walls and floors with a sense of unease. Silva took careful steps forward, looking down at the floor to check for ice and holding a gloved hand to one of the walls for support. "How far ahead is this thing that you want me to see?" Silva asked Barclay. "It's at the far end of the building," Barclay replied.

"Right," Silva muttered softly as he crept through the hallway. He looked around at the burnt walls and singed surfaces of the various doors and objects that were scattered about the rooms of the station as he and Barclay moved closer to their destination, until Silva saw the door with the axe in it. He turned around to look at Barclay with a curious expression. "Hey, I didn't do it," Barclay said in response.

Silva turned back around and continued his trek through the building, stepping into the next room. "Actually, it's a bit further up... ahead," Barclay said as Silva made his way over to the radio room. Silva wordlessly began prepping his camera. "Save the film for-" "Quiet, Bar. I'm concentrating," Silva said before he took a handful of pictures from multiple angles.

Silva then proceeded to study the room with both his naked eyes and his camera, not taking pictures, but merely surveying the room. He walked over to a nearby desk and looked at the various tables. "Someone else has been here," Silva said, pointing out the way that the snow had been brushed aside on certain parts of the floor and a few of the tables. "Probably the guys from Thirty-One," Barclay said.

"Uh-huh. You said back in the chopper that you listened to an audio cassette that one of them made. What all did they say about this place, if they were the first ones to investigate, that is?" Silva asked him. "MacReady said-" "Who?" Silva asked him. "The guy who made the tape. He was one of the bodies that Atkins and I brought back yesterday, remember?" Barclay clarified. "Oh, right. Dog tags. Sorry," Silva replied sheepishly. "Anyway, MacReady said that he and Copper, the station's physician, flew over here to investigate the place after a crazed Norwegian flew over to Thirty-One and tried to kill a sled dog," Barclay explained.

Silva turned around to look at Barclay in surprise. "The Norwegians... tried to kill a sled dog?" Silva asked him. "That's what the guy said in the tape. Two Norwegians on a helicopter, one of whom blew up the chopper and himself with a grenade while trying to kill the dog," Barclay explained. He found himself more willing to believe the earlier portions of MacReady's audio tape than the later portions, as those portions still had some semblance of reality in them.

"What about the other one?" Silva asked him. "The tape said that the other one shot at the dog with a rifle, hit some guy named Bennings by accident, and was then shot dead by Garry, the station commander," Barclay relayed to him. "This seems like a pretty long tape," Silva said. "It is. I'll play the whole thing for everybody after we get back later. You guys can listen to it while I get on the radio with McMurdo this evening," Barclay said.

When Silva was done surveying the radio room, he and Barclay moved on to the next one, before eventually coming across the hallway that led to the storage room. Silva stepped over to the banister and looked at the ice block curiously as Barclay walked up beside him. "This is what I was talking about," Barclay said. "A giant block of ice?" Silva asked him incredulously.

"Look at it," Barclay said to him, pointing at the top portion. "Oh, I see now," Silva said as he started getting his camera ready. As he began setting up the tripod, he noticed the holes in the roof of the room. Grabbing his camera, Silva, looked through the lens at the largest of the holes. "Find something?" Barclay asked him. Silva looked at Barclay before looking back up at the roof, before finally looking at the excavated portion of the ice block.

Barclay's curiosity was piqued when he saw Silva frown as he looked at the roof. "Bar... did you and Atkins touch that ice block at all?" Silva asked him. "Only the outside," Barclay replied. "Atkins thinks that the Norwegians dug something out of there, like a fossil or something," he added.

"That hole in the roof is directly over the open section of the ice," Silva noted. "Think maybe they hit a gas pocket in it?" Barclay asked him. "I don't... I don't think so. Bar... what else was on that tape?" Silva asked him. Barclay fixed Silva with a frown. "The Norwegians found something buried in the ice, something that was measured at being there for thousands of years. I don't want to believe what I've heard until I see proof, though," Barclay said cryptically.

"Proof? Of what?" Silva asked him. "I'll tell you when we find the crater," Barclay replied vaguely. "Yeah, that's really going to help me," Silva retorted. "Look, just... just take pictures and document this," Barclay growled. Silva rolled his eyes at Barclay before adjusting his camera on the tripod.

* * *

**Back At Hawke Station...**

Marvin Pomroy, the station's dog handler, looked over one of his malamutes for signs of ear infection. Marvin Pomroy was a relatively thin man with a clean-shaven face and curly black hair who was in his mid-thirties. "There. That wasn't so bad," he said before scratching the dog's head. "Yeah, who's a good boy?" Pomroy asked the dog heartily. "That's right, you are. Now get outta here," he said as he pushed the dog away and motioned for the next dog to come over. "Come on, Sykes. Get over here," Pomroy said. The dog lowered his head in a worried manner. "Don't give me that look," Pomroy said before gesturing towards the dog again. Sykes reluctantly made his way over to the small stool where Pomroy had set up his veterinarian kit.

"There we go," Pomroy said as he carefully took a hold of the dog's head and tilted it as he looked around the dog's ear, checking for signs of infection or adverse effects from the weather. Pomroy soon perked his head up when he heard foot steps and looked over to the kennel's entrance to see Eric Kinner, the station's head cook. "Eric," Pomroy said in acknowledgement. "Pomroy," Kinner replied courteously. "Do you need something?" Pomroy asked Kinner. "Just wanted to know if you want me to set something aside for the dogs tonight," Kinner said.

"Sure. Just, uh, make sure that there's enough for all of them, but nothing spicy. Remember last Tuesday?" Pomroy reminded Kinner. Kinner's face blanched briefly as the memories of the horrible incident returned to his mind. "Yeah. I-I remember," he said. "Good. I don't wanna have to clean up a mess like that in the kennel again, you hear?" Pomroy prompted him. "Hey, I hear ya man," Kinner said before turning around to walk away.

"Wait!" Pomroy called out. "What?" Kinner asked him. "What happened to last night's leftovers?" Pomroy asked Kinner. "We still have those. Did you want me to prep some of them for the dogs?" Kinner replied. "A small amount. Not too much, though," Pomroy said before he resumed inspecting Sykes as Kinner briskly walked away.

**Storage Room #03/Makeshift Exercise Room...**

Samuel Dutton lifted the dumbbells with a grunt before setting them back down. "Congratulations, Sam. You've done fifty of those. May I please leave now?" Walters asked him as he handed Dutton his towel. "Sure. Cry-baby," Dutton replied. "I'd like to get back to the greenhouse," Walters snapped as he turned around. "You and your plants," Dutton muttered.

"Those plants are valuable," Walters retorted as he walked away, just as the door opened and Ralsen entered the room along with Sanchez. "Have fun," Walters said dismissively as he left the room. "What's up with him?" Sanchez asked Dutton. "He likes plants more than people," Dutton snarked.

"Eh, let 'im go. Someone has to keep an eye on those Mary Janes we planted a while back," Ralsen said with a smirk. "I still don't understand how you convinced him to let you plant those in there," Dutton said as he wiped his head and arms with his towel. "One word," Ralsen said before holding up a finger.

"Money."

* * *

**Back At Thule Station...**

Barclay and Silva exited the remains of the final burnt building, having spent nearly three hours inspecting the station for clues and taking pictures. Barclay was holding a map in one hand as he and Silva returned to the helicopter. "I just don't get it," Silva muttered sourly. "No bodies, except the radio guy, and all of the vehicles are missing," he said.

"All of the vehicles at the American camp were wrecked too," Barclay said. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we're ever going to figure out what happened here," Silva said to Barclay, shaking his head. "Well, we've got one more stop," Barclay said as he opened up the map and showed Silva the coordinates on it. "Five to six miles northeast of here, just like the audio log mentioned. We've gotta check it out," Barclay elaborated.

"Okay. You're the boss," Silva said in defeat before opening the helicopter doors and getting inside. "You guys ready?" Van Wall asked as he walked over to them. Barclay quickly looked over at the cockpit before looking back at Van Wall. "Where the hell were you at?" he asked the pilot. "I was over that way, taking a leak," Van Wall replied before stepping over to the cockpit door and getting inside.

Van Wall looked over at Barclay. "Well? Are you getting inside?" Van Wall asked him. Barclay silently made his way over to the other side of the cockpit and got in, closing the door and strapping in as Van Wall went through his pre-flight sequence before starting up the helicopter again. "You know, I heard Stiles say that we're supposed to a get another storm in a few days," Van Wall said.

"Uh-huh," Barclay said, nodding his head. "Whatever we're doing out here needs to get finished up before then. I'm not flying us around in stormy weather," Van Wall said before he finished his pre-flight check and began lifting the helicopter off of the ground. "I get ya. I wouldn't ask you to either," Barclay said in understanding.

The helicopter slowly ascended and began making its way northeast of the Norwegian camp as Barclay relayed the coordinates on the map to Van Wall. "It shouldn't take us too long to get there from here," Barclay said to the pilot. "Right. What's supposed to be at this dig site or whatever again?" Van Wall asked Barclay. "Some kind of crater, like I told you earlier," Barclay replied. "Yeah, but what's in the crater?" Van Wall asked as he flew them near some small mountains.

"We'll just have to see when we get there," Barclay replied vaguely. He could still remember MacReady's words on the tape, and this last trip would determine whether or not the man had actually gone crazy or if he had been telling the truth on his hidden cassette. The rest of the flight was quiet, until Van Wall asked Barclay to look at the map again.

"Did I pass it?" Van Wall asked. "No, we just have a little... wait, I see the crater," Barclay said. Snow had already filled in and covered whatever was in the deep section of it, but Barclay had also noticed a large snow mound with a snowcat next to it. "Take us down, near that snowcat," Barclay said. Van Wall nodded his head and slowly began their descent.

Several minutes later, after landing and waiting for the rotor blades to stop moving, Barclay and Silva departed from the helicopter, along with Van Wall. "It looks burnt," Silva observed as they moved closer to the vehicle. "It's been here a while," Barclay said as he noticed the snow that had covered some of the vehicle.

"Lucky you even noticed it at all," Silva said as he walked over to the side of the vehicle and saw the open door. Silva looked down and saw the rim of a flamethrower's hose sticking out of the snow near the passenger-side door of the vehicle, before looking back up as he walked closer to the open door. "Geez, this thing is..." Silva trailed off when he noticed the burnt corpse in the seat of the snowcat.

"Bar!" Silva cried out, motioning for the man to hurry. Barclay quickly jogged over to the spot where Silva was standing. "What? Did you find some...one?" Barclay asked as he looked inside the open door and saw the burnt body. The man's face seemed contorted in pain, but there was something off about his mouth. The entirety of the body and his clothes were severely burnt and crisp.

The entire inside of the cabin had been torched, in fact, with the instrument panel showing signs of the weaker components having melted and warped from the heat. Barclay stepped away from the roasted interior before he glanced over at the ridge near the crater. "Vic, take a handful of pictures, and then join me over by the rim of the crater. I'm gonna check something out," Barclay said before walking away from the snowcat.

"Um, what? You see a burnt body inside a vehicle and you just _walk away?_ " Silva asked him incredulously. "Just do it," Barclay said sternly as he continued his march. After finally approaching the rim of the crater, Barclay had to blink a few times before the sight in front him fully registered. His eyes widened as he realized what exactly he was looking at.

No sounds came out of Barclay's mouth as he processed what he was seeing. He was only shaken out of his stupor a few minutes later when Silva finally placed a gloved hand on his right shoulder. "Okay, what did you... want?" Silva asked as Barclay looked at him before pointing at the nearly obvious object in front of them. Silva turned his head and looked out, squinting as he saw a small object standing upright, almost looking like a hatch of some kind out in the center of the crater. "The hell is that?" Silva asked, before Barclay pointed elsewhere.

Silva followed Barclay's directions, looking at the perimeter of the crater, before he finally realized what Barclay was showing him. Silva quickly pulled up his camera and looked through the lens in order to make certain that he was seeing things properly. "You're shittin' me. This... this is real?" Silva asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Barclay replied softly, still in a state of shock at his discovery. "Bastard was telling the truth," Barclay muttered, MacReady's tape recording still fresh in his mind. "Silva, start taking pictures. I want them to span the whole circumference of this thing. We're gonna show everyone what we've found when we get back," Barclay said, trying to stay calm.

A few minutes later, as Silva was taking pictures, Van Wall walked up to them. "Hey, Bar? We need to get moving in about an hour or so. Days are getting shorter that further we get into Winter," Van Wall said. Barclay turned to look at him. "Hey, Van? What's your opinion on other life in the universe?" Barclay asked him. "Huh?" Van Wall replied, confused. Barclay motioned for him to step closer, before pointing out at the crater.

Van Wall looked around the crater, before he finally realized that he was looking at a snow-covered space ship. Van Wall turned to look at Barclay before looking back out at the ship. "Well, now I've seen everything," Van Wall said with a nervous chuckle. "You know what this means?" Barclay asked him. Van Wall looked at Barclay with a raised eyebrow.

"We've... solved the... um, puzzle?" Van Wall asked him hesitantly. "Sort of. How long until we need to leave?" Barclay asked Van Wall. "If you wanted to check this thing out, you'll have to come back tomorrow. We only have a couple hours before the sun starts setting, and I wanna get back before it's too difficult to see properly. I can help you grab that body from the snowcat back there, if you wanna bring something back with us," Van Wall replied.

Barclay looked over his shoulder before turning his head to look at the ship again. "Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Silva! Keep taking pictures until you're out of film. We're gonna need proof when we get back," Barclay said. Both Van Wall and Silva nodded their heads in silent agreement.

* * *

**Hawke Station, Hours Later...**

"Bullshit," Ralsen muttered as he leaned back against the wall of the rec room. "I saw it. It's real," Van Wall said. "Where's your proof?" Crenna asked him. "Silva's in the dark room developing the pictures right now," Van Wall replied. A minute later, Barclay walked into the room, carrying the cassette player and audio tape that he'd found at Outpost 31 the previous day. "You all can listen to this while I'm in the radio room," Barclay said.

"What is it?" Lambert asked him. "It's an audio cassette," Harvey said snidely. "I know _that_ ," Lambert retorted. "I found it at Thirty-One. It's got some stuff that you guys might need to hear, especially with what we found today," Barclay explained. "Have you already listened to it?" Pomroy asked from the pool table. "Yes. It's a record of what happened at Outpost Thirty-One. It doesn't cover _everything_ that happened, but it does explain how things got started, to a degree, anyway," Barclay replied.

Just then, Sanchez entered the doorway of the rec room. "Hey, Bar. Caldwell's got McMurdo on the line. The Soviets just arrived a short while ago with that scientist," Sanchez said. "Okay, I'll be right over," Barclay responded with a nod of his head. "Well, I trust all of you know how to use this, so... have fun," Barclay said before turning around and leaving the room.

"Uh, wait! Bar, if you've actually found a real... space ship, then I wanna check it out," Carrington said. "Oh, come on!" Dutton chided him. "Well, I _am_ heading back out there tomorrow with Silva to take more pictures of the ship. I guess you could come along," Barclay said after a moment of consideration.

"Another day of flying," Van Wall muttered. Barclay stopped and looked back at him. "Tell you what. Harvey, why don't you fly us over there tomorrow?" Barclay suggested. Harvey looked at him incredulously. "Are you serious?" Harvey asked him. "Yeah. Van Wall's been busting his ass for two days in a row already. How about you give him a break and do some flying instead?" Barclay asked him.

"Fine. Just bring a map with us," Harvey said reluctantly. Barclay took one last look around the room before leaving. "So, who wants to play the cassette?" Dutton asked the others. "I'll do it," Crenna offered as he walked away from the pool table and over to the smaller card table where Barclay had laid the cassette player.

**The Radio Room...**

Bart Caldwell turned around as he saw Barclay enter the room. "Yeah, he just got back. Here," Caldwell said before getting up from his seat and letting Barclay sit down. "This is Captain Barclay of Hawke Station, come in McMurdo," Barclay said into the microphone.

" _This is McMurdo. Hello again, Captain Barclay._ " "Okay, how long ago did the Soviets arrive with Doctor... uh, Lloyd?" Barclay asked over the radio. " _Just an hour or so ago. Did you want us to go get Doctor Lloyd right now?_ " the McMurdo operator asked him. "What's her status? I mean, how awake is she? Is she in any condition to speak?" Barclay asked them in response.

" _I can send someone to find out_ ," the operator replied. "Please do so. I'd rather not speak to her if she isn't lucid," Barclay said. " _Gotcha. I'll send someone to go find her. In the meantime, how's the investigation coming along?_ " the operator replied. "Well... we found a large crater a few miles from the Norwegian camp," Barclay said carefully.

" _A crater? Did you find anything inside?_ " the operator asked him. "We found something large and possibly metallic in nature. We're, uh, gonna go back out tomorrow to perform a proper inspection. We didn't have enough time to look at it properly today. It looked to be round in shape. Could be a frozen mineral deposit or something. We'll let you know tomorrow evening," Barclay lied. _I don't need people to think I'm crazy just yet. At least not before I can gather more evidence of this thing,_ Barclay thought to himself.

A few minutes later, the McMurdo operator relayed Dr. Lloyd's status to Barclay. " _She's lucid. A bit tired from traveling, but she's fully cog-uh, cough-um, yeah, lucid. In fact, she's in the room right now with me and one of the reds. You wanna talk to them first?_ " the McMurdo operator asked him. "Does he speak English?" Barclay asked. " _He's the translator,_ " the McMurdo operator replied.

"Sure. I'll speak to Doctor Lloyd when I'm done with him," Barclay said. " _Okay. Here ya go,_ " the operator said before a minute of silence took place. " _He-Hello. My name is Vassili. Doctor Lloyd is in good health. We have not harmed her,_ " the Soviet scientist said. "Hello, Vassili. My name is Barclay. What can you tell us about the condition that Miss Lloyd was found in?" Barclay asked the Soviet.

" _Cold. Doctor Lloyd was cold. Her thiokol was run-running on fumes when she arrived at base. She did not speak for two days,_ " Vassili relayed. "Mm-hm. Did you attempt to investigate the Norwegian research station when she told you about it?" Barclay asked them, looking over his shoulder to see Hendry standing in the corner, watching and listening.

" _No. We could not. Doctor Lloyd woke only hours before a large storm arrived. Travel was not safe until storm was over,_ " Vassili responded. "Understandable. Why did you guys decide to take her to McMurdo instead of somewhere closer?" Barclay asked. " _We believed it would be best to take American scientist to American territory. A show of goodwill,_ " Vassili replied.

"That's a fair point, I suppose. Do you plan to investigate the Norwegian research station after you return to your own station?" Barclay asked him. " _We have not made any decisions yet. We do not wish to raise alarms by accident,_ " Vassili replied. Barclay nodded his head in silent agreement. "Okay. Vassili? Listen. I, and the rest of Hawke Station, are already investigating the Norwegian research station, as well as an American outpost nearby. Contact was lost with the American outpost shortly before the most recent storm," Barclay said.

Hendry stared at Barclay in confusion as he listened to him. "Near the Norwegian camp, there is a large crater. A dig site, where the Norwegians found something in the ice. Tomorrow, I am taking a flight over to that location to perform a more thorough investigation. When you and your comrade arrive back at, um, the Soviet station, please attempt to contact us for a possible joint-effort," Barclay said, causing Hendry's jaw to drop in disbelief.

" _Doctor Lloyd said that she and the Norwegians found something in the ice. She did not... explain much about it. She only talked about... infection of some kind, spreading through Norwegian camp,_ " Vassili explained. "Infection? May I please speak to Doctor Lloyd now? There are some questions that I would like to ask her," Barclay requested.

" _Yes. She is here,_ " Vassili said before Kate's voice came out over the radio. " _H-Hello?_ " Kate asked shakily. "Hello, Doctor Lloyd?" Barclay asked. " _Yes. You... wanted to ask me some questions?_ " Kate asked him. "Yeah. I'd like to know how long ago you and the Norwegians found that... thing in the crater," Barclay asked her. " _Crater?_ " Kate asked. "Yeah. Large, round, and metallic. You should know what I'm talking about," Barclay responded.

" _We found it a little over a week ago,_ " Kate replied. "Okay. How many people were at the Norwegian camp?" Barclay asked her. " _Um... there were about ten people stationed there, in addition to myself, Carter, Griggs, Adam, Sander, and Derek,_ " Kate replied. Barclay raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Um... who?" he asked her. " _Carter, Derek, and Griggs were American helicopter pilots. Adam was also an American scientist, working along with Sander, who insisted on taking the core sample that woke it up,_ " Kate explained, causing more confusion for Barclay.

"Wait, woke _what_ up?" Barclay asked her. " _The... thing... in the ice. It... I don't know how to explain this without sounding like a crazy person,_ " Kate said. "Doctor Lloyd, at any point during the time you spent at the Norwegian camp, was any contact made with US Outpost number thirty-one?" Barclay asked her. " _N-Not that I can remember,_ " Kate replied shakily.

"You said that there was an infection spread by what was found in the ice. Can you please elaborate on that for me?" Barclay asked her. " _I-I... I don't want you to think I'm crazy. A-After what I went through, I just..._ " "You can ask the others to leave the room while we talk. I'll ask the people here to leave me alone as well. We'll both have privacy, but please be aware that I _will_ be taking notes," Barclay said as he grabbed a pen and a notebook.

Caldwell walked over and motioned for Hendry to follow him as Barclay looked at the both of them. "No secrets," Hendry said firmly before turning around and leaving the room, closing door behind him. "Okay, I'm alone now. Doctor Lloyd, what did you find in the ice?" Barclay asked her. " _Just-Just a moment. Vassilli and the others are leaving. They've left now. Please, tell me you won't say anything until I've explained the whole story,_ " Kate begged.

"Look, Doctor Lloyd, I've already seen the ship and the block of ice at the camp. You found something from outer space, right?" Barclay asked her. There was a moment of silence before Kate replied. " _Y-Yes. It... it's like a-a virus. A living virus of some kind. It enters your body and takes you over from the inside. It... it killed and... a-assimilated everyone except Lars, Matias, and... Colin,_ " Kate explained. "Colin? Who's Colin?" Barclay asked her. " _He... he was a British radio operator working at Thule Station,_ " Kate explained.

"Wait... the corpse wasn't Norwegian?" Barclay asked her. " _C-Corpse? Oh god, Colin... he-_ " "We found him in the radio room. He'd slashed his wrists and his throat. He was holding a razor in his left hand. He'd been dead for over a week by the time we'd arrived," Barclay explained. " _Oh my god. He... he was still human. He was still... why?_ " Kate asked shakily. "I have no idea. Maybe you can tell me a bit more about the others and what happened. I mean, who are Lars and Matias, for example?" Barclay asked her in response.

" _Lars... he was the station's dog handler. His dog... his malamute was killed by the-oh my god we forgot to burn it! Oh god, we forgot to burn its body after it was attacked!_ " Kate cried in realization. "H-Hold on! Listen, listen! Just calm down for a minute. Take a deep breath and tell me about Lars. Not the dog, not yet. Just Lars," Barclay requested firmly.

" _He... he was the dog handler. He was the only one there who didn't speak English. He-He understood English well enough, but he didn't s-speak it. Have you... Did you find him at the camp when you investigated it?_ " Kate asked him. "Negative. Who's Matias?" Barclay asked her, the gears slowly grinding in his head as the early portions of MacReady's audio recording began playing in his mind.

" _Matias was the station's helicopter pilot. I-I'm pretty sure that was his name. Anyway, he'd left the station for a short period before everything... went to hell. I-I don't know when or if he returned to Thule after I'd gone after Sander,_ " Kate explained. "Wait, who was Sander again?" Barclay asked her. " _Sander... he was a Danish biologist. He was the one who recruited me to join his team at Thule Station. He was the one who insisted on taking a core sample of the thing in the ice. He was the second-to-last person that the... Thing... assimilated,_ " Kate explained, trying to hold back sobs.

"Who was the 'last' person?" Barclay asked her. " _Carter. He... he must've been attacked by Sander after we'd split up. We... we chased Sander to the ship, and... we got separated. He-He must've been attacked by Sander afterward,_ " Kate explained tearfully, her voice choking up over the radio. "How-I mean, when did you... realize that he was... no longer himself?" Barclay asked her carefully.

" _In the snowcat. His ear piercing was missing. When we'd gone after Sander, it was on his left ear, but after he found me, it was gone. When I mentioned the piercing, he reached for his right ear. That was... that was how I knew,_ " Kate explained. "What do you mean? So, he forgot which ear was pierced after he lost it. That somehow made it okay for you to _set him on fire!?_ " Barclay asked her. " _W-What? How... how did you_ -" "We found a burnt corpse in a snowcat earlier today at the crater. I'm guessing that was Carter, right? Sorry, Ma'am, but that corpse is completely human. No abnormal body parts or extra limbs or anything," Barclay said.

" _No! I heard it's screams when I torched it! It wasn't human! That thing wasn't Carter! It wasn't Carter!_ " Kate reiterated over the radio. "And just how do you know? How does a switched ear piercing prove anything?" Barclay asked her. " _Because it can't replicate inorganic matter!_ " Kate exclaimed. "Okay, take a deep breath, calm the hell down, and explain this to me. I have two burned down research stations, over twenty people dead or missing, and a crashed alien space ship buried in the ice. I'm a little overwhelmed here, so please help me out by _trying_ to remain calm," Barclay demanded sternly and irritably.

He heard Kate take a few breaths over the radio as she tried to calm herself before speaking to him again. " _O-Okay. This thing cannot... when it assimilates someone, it only replicates organic matter. Flesh, blood, bones, sure. But something like a metal nose ring or an ear piercing? It can't replicate that. Tooth fillings were how we determined who was human and who... was suspect,_ " Kate explained. "But... if somebody didn't have fillings to begin with, that didn't automatically make them an imposter," Barclay said.

" _Right. But it was the only way to be sure. This thing absorbs other life forms and imitates their organic body structure. When it imitates a human who's missing a tooth, it's not going to imitate a hole in their mouth, because losing a tooth in an accident or to poor dental hygiene isn't something you'd find in someone's genetic code. It'll replicate them with a full set of teeth, and any fillings they had will be gone, pushed out and left somewhere in a bloody mess,_ " Kate explained as calmly as she could, remembering how she had found the bloody mess in the shower before Derek and Carter's helicopter crashed.

"Okay, so what about people who don't have any tooth fillings or body piercings? How do you tell is they're still human?" Barclay asked her. " _We... I don't know. Adam and Sander were working on a test when the crisis started, but when they left the lab alone, someone destroyed their work and set the rest of the lab on fire. I... I don't know any other tests. I'm sorry,_ " Kate replied.

"Thanks. Although... I'm kind of surprised that you haven't asked me why I'm taking this so easily, to be honest. You haven't asked me how I've managed to not laugh at you or anything. Why is that?" Barclay asked her after the thought occurred to him. " _Well, you mentioned having seen the ship earlier, as well as the ice block at Thule Station. I figured... that meant you at least believed me about the existence of an alien life form,_ " Kate explained.

"Okay, well... there's one other reason I'm not outright dismissing your claims, Doctor Lloyd. Do you remember what I said about Outpost Thirty-One?" Barclay asked her. " _You asked me if any contact had been made with them. Why?_ " Kate asked him. "Well, I think that your friends Lars and... uh, Mathew, or Matias? Was that his name?" Barclay asked her. " _Yeah. M-Matias. I-I'm pretty sure it was,_ " Kate replied as she remembered reading the English version of the station's roster shortly after her arrival at Thule.

"Well, your friends Matias and Lars both apparently managed to make their way to Outpost Thirty-One a week ago," Barclay said. " _The-They did? Are they okay? Is Lars all right?_ " Kate asked hopefully. "Well, do you remember the other thing I said earlier? About _two_ research stations being burned down?" Barclay asked her.

" _N-No. Oh god. Out-Outpost Thirty-One? Did... what happened?_ " Kate asked him. "Well... you said earlier that your friend's dog was attacked by the... alien, and that you forgot to burn it. According to an audio log I found in the wreckage of Outpost Thirty-One, that dog was assimilated by your alien and was then chased by two Norwegians in a helicopter. I'm assuming that those two Norwegians were your friends Lars and Matias, so... they, uh... they're both dead," Barclay said bluntly.

" _Oh... oh god, Lars. H-How... do you know how he died? Anything at all?_ " Kate asked him fearfully. "Well, apparently he died pretty quickly, compared to everyone else. Your friend started shooting at the dog when he arrived, and he shot one of the Americans by accident, which caused the station commander to shoot him in the head. At least, that's what the recording said," Barclay relayed to her.

There was silence on the radio for another minute, causing Barclay to wonder if Kate was able to speak anymore. "Um, if it helps, he _probably_ suffered the _least_ out of everyone who died," Barclay said in attempt to calm the now-silent woman on the other end. " _Th-Thank [sniffle] you. W-What about... Matias?_ " Kate asked him. "Uh... he blew himself up by accident... along with the helicopter," Barclay replied. He looked down at his notes and saw that a lot of it was disjointed. He frowned.

"Look, Doctor Lloyd, I've seen the ship, but... how about you start over, from the beginning? Just tell me what you witnessed. Start from when Sander first contacted you and go from there. I've got all night," Barclay said as he turned over the page in his notebook and prepared to start again.

**Two Hours Later...**

"Thank you, Doctor Lloyd. Now, get yourself some rest. I've... I've got a lot to think about tonight. Please, put me on with the regular McMurdo operator, though," Barclay requested as he looked up from his rather extensive notes. A minute later, the usual operator's voice spoke over the radio. " _So, that must've been some chat you guys had. What did you learn?_ " the operator asked.

"A lot. I got her version of what happened at the Norwegian camp. Tomorrow, I'll stop over there one more time before checking out the crater we found. I should be able to confirm her story, now that I know what evidence to look for... if any of it is still there. This is Hawke Station, out," Barclay said before ending the radio call. At that moment, Caldwell and Hendry entered the room again.

"So... how'd it go?" Caldwell asked. Barclay turned around in the chair and looked at both men with a weary sigh and a tired expression on his face. "I need a goddamn drink."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Okay, so... no Thing action yet. But, we're getting there. When we finally do get some Thing action, I can guarantee that it will cause the rating to change from T to M. Anyway, in the next chapter, the crashed alien ship is finally explored.


	4. A Brief Glimmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay and a few others return to the site of the crashed alien ship in the ice for a more thorough investigation.

Disclaimer: John Carpenter's THE THING is property of Universal.

* * *

**A Brief Glimmer**

* * *

Date: Winter of 1982 - 1983

**DAY 03**

**United States Antarctic Research Outpost "Hawke Station"**

Barclay looked on as Atkins, Thorne, and Connant began their autopsy of the burnt body of Sam Carter. Thorne, wearing surgical gloves and using tongs, carefully removed Carter's gloves from his hands. "He's burnt all over," Thorne stated as he scanned Carter's corpse.

"Why, exactly, are we doing this again?" Atkins asked Barclay as he retrieved a scalpel. "Just something that Doctor Lloyd said last night that's been bugging me," Barclay replied. "You mean the whole alien imposter thing?" Thorne asked, having listened to the audio cassette in the rec room with the others the previous night.

"Something like that," Barclay said as he crossed his arms and watched the three men perform the autopsy. "Say, Bar, weren't you planning to go flying back to that crater today?" Thorne asked as he looked up from Carter's burnt corpse. Connant was busy cutting open the man's jacket and removing it from his burnt limbs.

"I will, but first... I just need to have something verified. I may end up having Van Wall fly the spare helicopter over to the camp while Harvey flies me and Carrington over to the ship," Barclay said. "You really think that what you saw was actually a space ship?" Connant asked him dubiously. "I do. It's covered in snow, but I know a saucer when I see one, and that thing was a goddamn saucer. It had a hatch opened on it, from what Silva's camera could see," Barclay replied firmly.

"Well, you'll have to get Dutton to hook up the spare helicopter to the tractor if you wanna use it. That thing's been sitting in that garage for eight months now. It's gonna need a tune up," Connant remarked. "Could you please pay attention to the body?" Atkins asked Connant with a glare. Connant shrugged his shoulders before returning his attention to task at hand.

Thorned sighed before looking back over at Barclay. "Bar, if you're gonna get that second chopper prepped and get out to that crater on time... you may wanna leave now. If you don't catch Dutton before he finishes his morning workout, he's gonna be at the bar with Harvey, and you won't get that thing prepped until tomorrow," Thorne said. "Duly noted. Just make sure to keep your autopsy recorded in some manner," Barclay said.

"Bar, if we're gonna do an autopsy on all of the burn victims, maybe you should stop by Thirty-One and bring back those two bodies we saw near the bulldozer," Atkins said as he grabbed a flashlight and peered into Carter's charred mouth. "Fine. I'll go get started. Anyone seen Hendry this morning?" Barclay asked before he left the infirmary.

"Nope," Thorne said. "Check the kitchen," Connant said. "I'll do that," Barclay said before walking out the door. Atkins sighed and looked back down at the burnt corpse he was inspecting. "What is he expecting us to find?" he asked rhetorically. "Something out of the ordinary," Connant said as he prepared to make an incision with his scalpel. "Both of you stand back. I need some room," Connant said as he gently pressed the scalpel to Carter's chest. "Here we go," he said.

**Storage Room #03/Makeshift Exercise Room...**

Samuel Dutton lifted the dumbells up again with a grunt, before he heard the door open. He glanced over to see Barclay walking over to him. "Mornin' Bar. What's on today's agenda?" Dutton asked him as he put down his weights and sat up. "Sam... please get the spare helicopter pulled out of the vehicle garage," Barclay requested.

Dutton looked at Barclay and blinked at him in confusion. "Um... what?" Dutton asked him. "You heard me, Dutton. I want that chopper pulled outside and ready to go by noon," Barclay said. "Aw, you've gotta be kidding," Dutton protested. "I'm serious. Come on. Get up and get dressed for the outside. I need Harvey to be sober today. Where is he right now?" Barclay asked as Dutton stood up.

"Probably at the bar. If you hurry, you might catch him before his second drink," Dutton replied bitterly. "Thanks. Where are Ralsen and Lambert?" Barclay asked. "I don't know. Go find them on your own," Dutton replied with a frown. Barclay turned around and exited the room, leaving a very bitter and angry Dutton swearing under his breath.

**The Dining Room...**

"And it hasn't been opened yet. So, I figure, we could all watch that on movie night, if Walters' DiscoVision machine is working properly. Don't know why he likes it so much. I've had to fix it for him eight times now," Ralsen said between bites of oatmeal. "Well, I guess you can always become a home video repairman when you get back home," Lambert said as he ate his pancakes.

"Eh, maybe," Ralsen replied with a shrug. "I mean, you've certainly got the training," Lambert joked. "Yeah, for something that hardly anyone uses," Ralsen said in response. "Well, maybe it'll catch on one day," Lambert said. "I doubt it," Ralsen said before taking another bite of his oatmeal. "So, if the DiscoVision doesn't work, do we go back to the VCR, or just... cancel it until next week?" Lambert asked him.

Before Ralsen could reply, Barclay entered the room. "Finally. Ralsen, Lambert," Barclay said. "Barclay, Ralsen," Lambert said with a smirk. "Lambert, Barclay," Ralsen said snarkily. "Look, I need the two of you to help Dutton get the spare helicopter out of the vehicle garage and get it prepped for flight by noon," Barclay said.

Lambert and Ralsen both stared at Barclay. "Uh... mind if we finish eating first?" Ralsen asked him. "It's important," Barclay said. "Yeah, and so is breakfast," Ralsen retorted. "Fine. Finish eating, and afterward, get your asses suited up and head outside to the vehicle garage. I'm having Harvey fly us out to the ship today," Barclay said.

"Wait, us?" Ralsen asked him. "Me, Silva, and Carrington," Barclay clarified. "Oh. Well, why do you need the spare helicopter?" Lambert asked him. "I need Van Wall to fly out to the American camp and grab the charred corpses we found, and then head over to the Norwegian camp to grab two other bodies that I learned about last night," Barclay said. "Geez, I thought you were giving Van Wall the day off," Ralsen commented.

"Change of plans," Barclay said before turning around and leaving the room, bumping into Walters by accident. "Hey, careful there, Bar. I almost spilled my coffee on ya," Walters said as he backed away and walked around Barclay. "I wouldn't worry. That decaf shit don't burn as much as _real coffee_ ," Ralsen commented with a grin.

"Yeah, why don't I pour this in your eyes so we can test that?" Walters suggested, shooting a smirk back at Ralsen. "Just finish your meals and get ready," Barclay said before walking away, leaving the three men to themselves. "What's up with Bar?" Walters asked. "He wants us to get the spare chopper ready by noon," Lambert said. "Why?"

**The Rec Room...**

Silva looked at the reactions on the faces of Crenna and Harvey as they looked at the photographs that he'd taken yesterday. "See? It's real," Silva said. Hendry reached over and grabbed another picture off of the table. "So it is. I can't believe Bar wanted the Soviets to work together with us, though. Idiot," Hendry muttered.

"Oh, come on," Carrington sniped at Hendry. "Look, if the Soviets get their hands on something like this, do you even know what could happen?" Hendry asked them bitterly. "The human race may experience a growth in scientific knowledge and technology," Carrington said with a smile.

"How wide is this thing?" Stiles asked as he looked at a picture. "Looks like maybe a mile in radius-no, maybe diameter?" Crenna said as he inspected the pictures. "Well, we'll be able to measure it properly when we arrive at the site later today," Carrington said with an enthusiastic tone in his voice. "You really can't wait to get your hands on this, can you?" Stiles asked him.

"Nope. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. This whole thing could get caught up in red tape after the investigation into the two camps is progressed, and I don't want to let it slip through my fingers," Carrington said. "Nearly twenty people are dead or missing, and all you care about is a big hunk of metal?" Hendry asked him, disgusted.

"Well, excuse me for wanting to find a silver lining in this situation," Carrington shot back with a glare. "You guys just make sure that Bar keeps his Colt loaded. Just in case those reds show up at the site," Hendry said. "Please, their station only has one helicopter, and it's currently at McMurdo right now," Caldwell said as he placed a picture back on the coffee table before grabbing another one.

"I still don't like it. They're only fifty miles away from the site. They could easily drive there in a thiokol," Hendry said. "Aw, poor baby. Afraid that the reds might turn out to be human when they find this thing and _don't_ blow us up after all?" Harvey said as he picked up a bottle of whiskey.

"Harvey, put the bottle down," Barclay said as he walked into the rec room. "Huh?" Harvey asked him. "You're flying me out to the crash site today, remember?" Barclay stated. "Oops," Harvey said with a shrug of his shoulders. "No oops, Harvey. Get some coffee and sober up," Barclay said sternly. "Honestly, I'd rather _not_ be sober today," Harvey said dryly.

"That's too bad. Get your shit in order and get ready to leave in one hour," Barclay said. "Yes _sir!_ " Harvey said sarcastically as he performed a mock salute. "Where's Van Wall? There's been a change of plans, and I need him to fly the spare helicopter out to Outpost Thirty-One today," Barclay explained before leaving the room to go find Van Wall.

"What crawled up his ass and died?" Stiles asked. "Who knows?" Caldwell said as he went back to looking at the pictures. "Well, Harvey, I guess you'd better get sobered up soon," Carrington said as he turned around to face the partially inebriated pilot. "Aw dammit," Harvey muttered before setting his whiskey bottle back down.

* * *

**Two And A Half Hours Later, At The Crater...**

Barclay secured his harness and looked down at the snow-covered surface of the alien ship below. "Here goes nothing," Barclay said quietly to himself before he began rappelling down the side of the ridge, eventually making his way onto the metal surface of the vessel. He looked to his side and saw that Carrington was already unlatching the hook from his harness.

Looking back up, Barclay saw Silva slowly making his way down with his rappel equipment, taking special care to keep his camera safe. "I'm gonna go on ahead and-" "No, Doc. You're gonna stay here until Silva gets down. We aren't gonna take any risks by splitting up just yet," Barclay said as he watched Silva slowly rappel down the side of the ridge.

"Two hours later," Carrington said sardonically as Silva finally reached the ship's surface after ten minutes of careful rappelling. "Okay, I'm good," Silva said as he disconnected himself from the rappel gear and prepped his camera. "You may wanna leave the tripod stand out here, Silva," Barclay said. "You sure?" Silva asked him in response. "Yeah. Pretty sure. I think your hands are steady enough," Barclay replied.

"Okay, just let me take the tripod back up to the chopper," Silva said as he reached for his rappel gear. "No! No, no! You-You can leave it out here. No one is going to steal it," Carrington said in protest. Barclay glanced at Carrington before nodding his head in agreement.

"Yeah, I think Carrington's right about that," Barclay said with a sigh. "Okay," Silva said reluctantly as he began detaching the camera from the tripod. "Alright, let's move," Silva said after he finished. The trio soon made their way over to the opened hatch on the ship.

Carrington kneeled down next to the circular opening and looked inside. "There's been a lot of snowfall recently," Carrington said as he pulled out a large flashlight and shone it into the hole. "Yeah, down in there. Snow's been building up in certain areas," Carrington noted. "Does it look safe to climb, though?" Barclay asked him.

"Only one way to find out," Carrington replied as he stood up and carefully positioned himself over the open hatch. He kept his flashlight in one gloved-hand and carefully reached forward to grab what looked like a ladder. "Aliens use ladders?" Silva asked. "Maybe it's a common design throughout the universe. Just be glad that they _have_ one," Barclay said as Carrington carefully climbed down the alien ladder, slowly brushing snow off of each handle as he stepped further and further into the alien ship.

Stopping every few steps, Carrington slowly waved his flashlight around, shining its light on the interior of the vessel. "Well?" Barclay asked him after his third wave-set. "Well what?" Carrington asked him as he continued his descent. "What's it like?" Barclay asked him.

"It's dark and cold," Carrington replied as he looked up, before returning his attention to the bottom of the ladder. "There seems to be another hatch inside. This might be an... an airlock!" Carrington called out as he looked around, seeing the frost-covered interior of the circular room he was in. There were engraved symbols on the walls, although Carrington had no idea what any of them meant. He recognized some basic geometric shapes, such as circles, triangles, and rectangles, but to an alien culture, those symbols could have had very different meanings in their arrangements than humans would expect.

"Silva! Get down here with that camera," Carrington called up. Barclay looked down at Carrington, who was about thirty feet beneath them, before looking at Silva. "Well, you heard him," Barclay said. "One small step for man. One giant-" "Just get down there already," Barclay interrupted. Silva shot him a glare before stepping over the hole and carefully grabbing onto the handles of the ladder. He kept his camera, an Olympus OM2-N MD, in his hands, even though he had it attached to a leash that went around his shoulders.

When he finally arrived at the bottom of the room, Silva looked around the room, preparing his camera and checking the light measurement that it provided. "I knew getting an OM-Two-N was a good idea," Silva said to himself as he took three pictures of the room. "Okay! I'm coming down!" Barclay hollered before grabbing onto the ladder and descending to the bottom. When he arrived at the bottom, Barclay looked around before shining his flashlight on the floor, seeing the various geometric shapes engraved onto the floor.

"Hey, Carrington, what do you make of this?" Barclay asked the physicist as he knelt down and ran a gloved hand over the shapes, brushing away errant snow patches. Eventually, he and Barclay came upon what seemed like a very subtle rim around the perimeter of the circle containing the shapes. "I think it's another hatch. Yes, this is most _definitely_ an airlock," Carrington said giddily. "Geez, you're like a child on Christmas morning," Barclay commented.

While Barclay and Carrington were talking, Silva noticed something shiny on the floor near the wall. Walking over, he knelt down and picked it up. "A piercing?" Silva asked himself as he held the tiny piece of metal in his gloved hand. "Hey, what's that you've found?" Carrington asked him. "Piercing," Silva said as he turned around and held out his hand for both men to see the tiny object.

Barclay looked at the object in confusion before his conversation with Dr. Lloyd the previous day came back to him. Taking in a breath, Barclay decided to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being. "Hold onto it for now," he said. Silva nodded and placed it in one of his coat pockets.

Carrington walked over and shined his flashlight over the various shapes and patterns until he saw something that caught his attention. "Ooh. What's this?" he asked himself aloud. "What's what?" Barclay asked him. "This," Carrington said as he backed up and set his light on what looked like a panel of some kind.

"It looks... like it's been used recently," Silva noted before taking a picture. "Go touch it and see what happens," Silva said to Carrington. "Are you sure we shouldn't get a long stick or something?" Barclay asked. "Let's do it," Carrington said after taking a deep breath. He quickly walked forward and placed his hand on the flat and shiny surface of the panel.

Absolutely nothing happened.

Disappointed, Carrington put pressure on the panel before swiping downward, causing a faint blue light to outline the panel. Carrington pulled his hand away and watched as the panel came apart, showing a series of physical keys and buttons, along with a few levers. "Huh. I was kind of figuring on this thing to be mind-controlled or something," Silva said.

"I wonder if the vessel's crew are still in here somewhere?" Carrington asked out loud as he walked over and looked at the control panel. Over in a corner, he saw a small circular arrangement of what appeared to be tiny triangles adorning a dial next to a lever. Looking back over at the supposed-inner hatch of the floor, Carrington motioned for Barclay and Silva to stand aside.

"Please let me be right," Carrington whispered to himself before placing his gloved fingers around the dial. He attempted to turn it clock-wise, only for it to remain still. He then tried turning the dial counter-clockwise, and, again, it did not move. Looking a the lever next to it, which was pulled down, Carrington grabbed it and pushed it up. A green light emanated from around the lever and the slim space between the dial and its socket.

"Fail-safe," Carrington whispered as he looked back over to the hatch and saw a green glow emanating from small lights dotting the rim of the hatch. "Gentlemen, we are in business," Carrington said with a grin. He then turned the dial counter-clockwise, causing the hatch to slowly begin opening. "Well, I'll be damned," Barclay muttered in amazement.

"I'm gonna win a Pulitzer for this," Silva said with a smile as he readied his camera again. "At least _one_ of us will get to make history," Carrington said. "What do you mean?" Silva asked him curiously. "We weren't the first ones to find the ship, Silva. The Norwegians found it first," Carrington reminded him. "Oh... right," Silva said forlornly.

"Come on. Let's get moving. I wanna check this thing out and get out of here before nightfall," Barclay said as he stepped over to the rim of the inner hatch. He looked down and saw another ladder, this time leading into a larger room. "I guess I'll go first this time," Barclay said as he grabbed the ladder and slowly made his way down into the dark chamber, with only his flashlight and the lights from the rim of the hatch providing illumination, casting an eerie glow about the room.

* * *

**United States Antarctic Research Station Outpost #31...**

Snow had started covering up the charred bodies of the two men on the tilted pool table. Van Wall frowned as he trudged forward and began trying to assess how he was going to move the bodies into the helicopter. "Allison, I hate you," Van Wall muttered under his breath.

"Which one do we move first?" Dutton asked him. Van Wall looked back over his shoulder at Dutton in mild annoyance. "Flip a coin."

* * *

**Back Inside The Alien Ship...**

Barclay, Carrington, and Silva silently walked through the corridors of the alien ship. Silva would stop every few minutes to take a picture of the walls and the architecture of the vessel, before moving on to the next location. The trio eventually came upon an intersection in the hallway, with a large door of some kind blocking a short hall in front of them. The other paths all led to various curving corridors.

The interior of the ship itself seemed to be an amalgamation of organic and inorganic appearances and designs, with clear metallic material used for sections that weaved in and out of other areas that held a rubbery and at times plastic appearances. "Looks like cast iron," Barclay said as he inspected the door at the end of the hall. "This thing is massive. It could take us _days_ to fully explore it," Carrington said.

"What time is it right now?" Silva asked. Barclay looked at his watch. "Uh, it's... thirteen-forty UTC," Barclay said. Above them, parallel lines of orbs ran across the ceiling and parted at the intersection, with the orbs having different shades and colors depending on the direction of the path. The path in front of them had orbs with purple coloration, although none of the humans noticed this detail.

Stepping forward, Barclay ran a gloved hand over the door. Looking over at the panel on the wall, which had smooth edges and curves, Barclay placed his gloved right hand against it, waiting for a reaction. When nothing happened, Barclay raised an eyebrow. "Hm. Okay," he muttered before looking down and noticing the small metal fragments at the foot of the darkened path to his left.

Shining his flashlight over into the darkened corridor, Barclay saw more scraps of metal and other frozen materials scattered along the floor. Silva and Carrington both stepped forward and rounded the corner, looking over Barclay's shoulders as he slowly trekked forward, cautiously moving into the darkened corridor. Barclay quickly ordered Carrington and Silva to shine their lights along the corridor's interior and walls as they walked through the darkness.

Their lights revealed blown-open portions of the wall and ceiling, along with ruptures along the length of the corridor, with various metal bits laying on the floor. The trio remained silent as they continued their investigation, seeing burn marks and and tears along the floor and walls, with a long metal pipe lying on a pile of rubble near another, half-open door. Barclay squinted as he moved closer, shining his light through the open doorway and carefully maneuvering along the rubble.

Staying silent, Barclay saw that parts of the room beyond the door were covered in ice and frost, much like the rest of the interior of the vessel up to that point. "Guys, help me get this door open," Barclay said. Silva and Carrington both nodded their heads as they moved forward. "Wait!" Silva said hastily. "What?" Barclay asked him. "I want to take a picture first. Just, you know, to make sure we remember what this was like," Silva said before kneeling down and holding his camera in front of him.

After he had taken three pictures, Silva placed the lens-cap back on, before moving forward to help move the rubble. Pipes, jagged metal scraps, and alien circuitry were all moved to the side as the three men cleared the way to the door. "Okay, I'll go first," Barclay said before carefully stepping up to the door. He looked up and down and at the sides, making sure that it wouldn't close on him. Looking up at the top of the door, Barclay saw burn marks and an open section of the ceiling, were damaged circuitry could be seen.

Letting out a breath, Barclay carefully moved forward, aligning himself as he slipped through the half-open doorway. He kept his flashlight pointed into the room, before carefully stepping back and hugging the wall. He shone his flash light throughout the room, seeing what looked like large glass tubes and cases, many of which had ice, frost, and fog covering them. A few of these glass cases had cracks in them.

At the bottom of some of these cracked containers were puddles of ice, along with small icicles that only just touched the metal floor. Barclay slowly waved his flashlight around, seeing various grates in certain locations along the floor of the room. Barclay soon heard shuffling noises as Silva and Carrington made their way into the chamber with him.

Shining his light along the interior of the room, Carrington stared in curiosity at the various objects that lined the room. The chamber itself was very large and wide, with pods adorning the walls. The pods, to which the glass cases were attached, were clearly mechanical in design and nature. Stepping forward, Carrington made his way over to a pod, until Barclay grabbed his arm.

"Careful. There's ice on the floor," Barclay said. Carrington looked at Barclay curiously before shining his light down at the bottom of the first pod. The light reflected from the ice. "Yes. I-I see," Carrington said with a nervous gulp. "Thank you, Bar," Carrington said with a nod of his head. He then kept his flashlight aimed at the floor as he slowly walked forward, carefully measuring the pod's width and height.

Shining his light on the pod, Carrington saw that the cracks were near the center of the pod, while there still appeared to be frozen liquid inside of it. "Huh," he muttered before backing away and slowly creeping over to the next pod, which was undamaged. The glass case appeared to be, while not damaged, not connected to the pod itself either.

The pods themselves were all about three feet in width, and at least seven to eight feet in height. They had a glossy yellow or creamy sheen to them. Carefully making his way from pod to pod, Carrington soon came across one that seemed clear. There was no damage to it, but there was definitely ice on the floor around it.

Peering inside, Carrington saw a frost-covered object. Shining his light along the length of it, he soon saw that it had limbs. There were six limbs, along with a curled-up tail that forked near the end. The head was boxy, but clearly reptilian in appearance, with a frill at the back of the head, and four eyes, each one closed. Carrington could make out the eyelids themselves, even with the frost-bite having damaged the hide of the creature.

"My god," Carrington breathed, before smiling. "I've found it," he said to himself. "Found what?" Barclay asked as he turned around from the pod that he had been inspecting. Carrington turned his head and grinned at Barclay and Silva. "An alien!" Carrington replied happily. Barclay and Silva both walked away from the pods they had been inspecting, with Barclay slipping on ice after forgetting to check the floor.

"You okay?" Silva asked as he knelt down and help Barclay back up. "Y-Yeah. I'm okay," Barclay said as he stood up, with Silva's help. The two men slowly walked over to Carrington's position, peering into the pod to see the frozen creature inside. "Well, damn. I gotta take a picture of this," Silva said as he took the lens-cap off of his camera and held it up. "Carrington, Bar, keep your lights steady," Silva said as he adjusted his camera.

"Okay... just, point the lights away from it," Silva said. Barclay and Carrington complied before Silva took his first picture, followed by his second and third of the creature. "Boys, the Norwegians may have found the ship, but we found _this_ ," Silva said with a grin. "We're gonna be famous, and rich as hell," Silva said.

"Yeah, if no one thinks we faked it," Barclay said. "We have pictures of the ship from outside. We have pictures of the hatch, the inner airlock, the interiors. No one is going to think that this is fake. I'm going to win a Pulitzer Prize for these pictures, and everyone's gonna be famous," Silva said.

"Everyone except the dead Norwegians and the men of Outpost Thirty-One," Barclay said bitterly. "Bar... whatever those people found in the ice; it's long gone and dead. The men at Thirty-One made sure of that," Carrington said. He'd seen the pictures taken by Silva of the Norwegian camp and the ship the previous night. "Yeah. I hope so," Barclay said with a sigh.

Barclay turned around and made his way over tot he other side of the room again, when he shined his light on another series of pods, noticing that one of them had been completely shattered. Carefully walking over to the opened pod, Barclay saw a grate nearby, where he saw traces of ice. Turning around, Barclay stopped when he heard a noise.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Turning back to face the grate, Barclay carefully walked over and wiped his gloved hand against the frozen liquid near the grate, watching as it sloshed down into the holes. "It's thawing," he whispered to himself. He remembered his conversation with Dr. Lloyd, and her account of what had happened in another room inside the ship. _That's right. The ship's been activated. But why is so much of it still cold and frozen after a week? Does this thing have separate temperature controls for each room or hallway?_

Barclay looked down at the grate again. _That must be it. This grate must be connected to one of the reactivated areas of the ship somehow. There must be a pipe that's carrying warm air or something around in here. If only there were a damn schematic for this thing. Not that I'd be able to understand it anyway,_ Barclay thought to himself.

"Actually, I think it's more of a gel," Barclay heard Carrington say to Silva. "Watch." Barclay turned around and saw Carrington kneeling on the floor before wiping the cold liquid to the side with his gloves. "See? It's a gelatinous substance," Carrington said to Silva. "Yeah. I see now," Silva said as he kept his flashlight aimed at the floor.

"What do you think this room was used for?" Silva asked Carrington as he looked at the various pods in the room. "I would most likely say... specimen collecting," Carrington said as he glanced back over at the reptilian creature in the nearest pod. "What were the specimens for?" Silva asked him. "Don't know. If I had to hazard a guess, then I'd probably say that the crew of this ship were collecting other life forms for... research, maybe," Carrington said.

"What kind of research?" Barclay asked him. "I don't know. Maybe a zoological study or something. Maybe this was where they stored their food. Maybe that thing over there was once another alien's _pet_ or something. I don't know. I don't know anything about the aliens who built this ship or operated it," Carrington said. "All I can say for certain is that this room holds pods that contain a gelatinous liquid, within which various life forms have been placed for... whatever purpose. That's all I can say for now," Carrington finished.

"Maybe these are incubators?" Silva asked. "Uh... possible, but I think it's more along the line of... specimen storage. I want to take some of this liquid back with us," Carrington said as he retrieved a small plastic container from his coat pocket. "Doc, maybe you should take something that hasn't been on the _floor_ for the past thousand years," Barclay suggested as Carrington held a small swab out towards the liquid.

"Oh. I think you have a point there," Carrington said before standing up and walking over to one of the pods that had been opened part-way. "Here," Silva said, producing a small flat-head screwdriver from his coat pocket. "Use this to chip away the frozen stuff. It might last longer than the stuff on the floor anyway," Silva said. Carrington stared at the screwdriver before looking back up at Silva. "Um, why do you... never mind," Carrington said before using the head of the screwdriver to chip away bits of the frozen substance while using the lid to scoop the bits into the dish.

Meanwhile, Barclay continued his inspection of the other pods in the chamber, noticing that many of them were empty, until he came across one pod that had a large pipe sticking through it. Walking over to the side, Barclay noticed that there was a figure in the pod, with a frost-bitten arm sticking out. Shining his flashlight on the figure, Barclay saw that it was a burnt corpse, with no trace of the liquid found in the other pods.

There was frost on it from the low temperatures, but otherwise, the body was burnt, with a lone four-digit hand connected to a bony-looking arm sticking out of the pod. Looking at what may have been the head, Barclay noticed that the right side was malformed, almost to the point that it seemed to be splitting apart. Walking over to the other side, ducking under the pipe, Barclay inspected the other side of the head, seeing that there were blackened teeth, coming out of what seemed to be a mouth growing of the side of the creature's head.

Barclay couldn't see any visible eyes, and with much of the body already being burnt, he couldn't tell what creature was supposed to look like anyway. For all he knew, the creature could have turned its head sideways when screaming as it was set on fire. Aiming his light further down, Barclay saw that, indeed, the entirety of the alien had been burned to a crisp.

"What'cha lookin' at?" Silva asked Barclay as he walked over, careful to avoid the pipe. "Another alien," Barclay said. "This one... doesn't look so hot," Silva commented as he looked up and down at the burnt corpse, seeing the pipe sticking through it. "What happened to it?" Silva asked. "It died," Barclay said.

"How did something this burnt stay intact for so long?" Silva asked. "This place has been pretty cold for thousands of years, Silva. Besides, it's an alien. Maybe these things don't break down as easily when set on fire," Barclay said. "You found another one?" Carrington asked as he walked over.

Barclay looked over at Carrington. "Yeah, we-watch for the-" Carrington hit his head on the pipe with a wince. "Pipe," Barclay finished with a grimace as Carrington backed up and held his head in pain. "Ow!" Carrington muttered angrily.

"Careful, Stewart," Silva said. "Thank you, Victor," Carrington replied with a frown as he walked over to see the charred corpse of the alien better. "Is that its mouth?" Carrington asked as he saw the rows of teeth on the malformed being's head. "I'm not sure," Barclay said. "Looks like it," Silva said.

Barclay wanted to agree, but there was something... _off_ about it, something that made him uncertain. He looked down at his watch. "Silva, take some pictures. We need to get moving soon," Barclay said as he walked away from the burnt alien corpse. "You know, if we could remove this pipe, maybe we could take this one back with us," Carrington suggested. "I think you hit your head a little too hard," Barclay said, looking back over his shoulder. "We don't know how stuck that pipe is, or how long it is. We don't even know how heavy the damn thing is," Barclay added.

"Well, it didn't cause any permanent damage to the man," Silva said. "Leave it anyway. We'll come back tomorrow and try to get it, when we actually have proper equipment with us. Right now, there isn't much more we can do except look around and take pictures," Barclay said firmly. "Yes, _father_ ," Carrington said bitterly. "Carrington... don't push my buttons," Barclay said with a frown as he took one last lingering glance at the malformed alien head.

Even though he had no way of knowing for certain, Barclay still felt that the mouth on that head was out of place. There was something _wrong_ with it. For a few seconds, both Kate Lloyd's radio conversation and MacReady's recording returned to his mind as he stared at the open mouth and sharp teeth.

Eventually, the three men left the chamber, agreeing to return the next day with the second helicopter and more equipment. And as they resumed their trek through the ship, the air, which had become increasingly warmer in several areas over the past week, flowed through the chamber uninhibited. What once was frozen... slowly, but surely, began to thaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: And this is where the chapter ends. Yes, Barclay and the others found a dead Thing that had partially transformed. No, the lizard alien is not an imitation. It was among the few collected specimens that didn't get absorbed by the Thing during its rampage on the ship. And, yes, the Thing will be making an actual appearance in the next chapter.
> 
> Be sure to let me know what you think in your reviews


	5. It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The terror begins at Hawke Station as some of the remains from Outpost 31 begin to thaw.

Disclaimer: John Carpenter's THE THING is property of Universal.

* * *

**It Begins**

* * *

Date: Winter of 1982 - 1983

**United States Antarctic Research Outpost "Hawke Station"**

Barclay sat in his bed as he finished his newest audio log. He'd decided to make his own log of the investigation into the destruction of Outpost 31 and Thule Station, as well as writing notes down in a notebook. "Having inspected the interior of the vessel, I can conclude that the Norwegian research team did find some kind of life form. As for what truly happened to it, I am uncertain at this time. The sole survivor of the Norwegian camp, American paleontologist Kate Lloyd, says that the life form was a being that... in her own words, assimilated other life forms and imitated their biological functions and appearance," Barclay said.

"So far, I've found no direct proof to support such a claim at this time. Even with the discovery of frozen organisms inside the alien ship, there is no certainty that any of them would still be alive. Silva estimates that the ship has been buried in the ice for at least a hundred-thousand years, give or take, and even if a life form could survive a hundred years in the cold, one hundred-thousand is just... implausible to me," Barclay continued.

"Again, I do believe that the Norwegian team found some kind of animal or life form in the ice, but I do not yet accept Doctor Lloyd's claims that it was still alive. While there have been discoveries of plant seeds germinating after thousands of years in hibernation, I must stress that those were still life forms that originated on Earth. I don't really see how something that comes from another planet would be able to survive in our own atmospheric conditions like that. Even if the body is preserved, how would it possibly survive in our atmosphere, unless it were some kind of bacteria or something simple of that nature?" Barclay asked as he continued.

"I really do want to give Doctor Lloyd the benefit of the doubt, but with her admission that she burned alive Samuel Carter in a snowcat, with only his missing an ear piercing as her supposed proof of his not being human, I'm afraid I can't really take much of what she's said at face value until further evidence has been collected. Especially since, after our return from the ship, Atkins, Thorne, and Connant all confirmed that Mr. Carter was human. They performed an autopsy on the body, and found that he had nothing out of place. All of his organs were normal, and there were no extra limbs or monstrous teeth or tentacles anywhere to be found," Barclay said.

"The fact remains that, at this time, until any solid evidence to the contrary can be provided, I must assume that Doctor Lloyd, acting out of fear and paranoia, murdered a fellow human being," Barclay said solemnly. "Log Three completed," Barclay said before stopping the recording. He sighed as he leaned back on the bed.

Looking up at the ceiling, Barclay contemplated everything that had been discovered so far through the investigation. _Norwegians find ship, bring back frozen alien. But... MacReady also said that there was a shape-shifter. Even if I were to accept that testimony, the fact remains that there is no evidence that the body in the snowcat wasn't human. But... the piercing. Shit, I forgot all about that. I'll have to ask Silva for it later,_ Barclay thought to himself.

 _Even if those things were real... they're dead now anyway,_ he thought to himself as he yawned. "No point crying over spilt milk," he said to himself before getting up. He looked over at his night stand and the empty plate sitting on it. "One more bite before bed time," Barclay said quietly to himself before grabbing the plate and walking out of the room.

**The Infirmary**

"Well, it would appear that this man was shot in the head," Atkins said as he examined the larger of the two newest burnt corpses. "Any identification on him?" Connant asked as he walked back into the room. He had taken the other corpses to the lab for storage with Ralsen and Dutton's help two hours earlier. "If there is, it's probably burnt," Atkins replied before he used an instrument to probe the interior of the man's head.

"Strange, though. I'm not seeing any exit wound," Atkins said as he continued probing. "Wait... ah-ha. He's got a metal plate in the back of his head," Atkins said as he removed his probing instrument. "I might be able to tell what did him in if I can get to the plate," Atkins said. "You know, that corpse with the beard had a revolver on him," Connant said.

"Well, that's probably the weapon that did it, but we don't have any way of being absolutely certain yet. We don't even know the _circumstances_ that led to this man getting shot," Atkins said as he looked over at Connant. "And what about Stumpy over there?" Connant asked him.

"Well... that's the strange part. He most likely died from shock and blood loss after losing his arms, but the problem is figuring out _how_ he lost them in the first place," Atkins said. "Did you listen to that audio tape Bar left out for everyone?" Connant asked him. "Oh, yeah. I listened to it. Unfortunately, I think whatever happened to these men took place well after the tape had been finished and hidden away. The tape mentioned one man being locked in a tool shed and three others tied up, but there was no mention of anyone being shot or losing their limbs," Atkins said.

"Eleven of the twelve men were still alive at that point. Atkins, tell me; do you really believe that alien story?" Connant asked him. "Considering the evidence so far... I have to say that I find it the most likely possibility. Remember, Barclay spoke with that lady yesterday, and she'd never met any of the men at Thirty-One, yet they have the same story. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that there has to be some amount of truth to what they were saying," Atkins said.

Connant leaned against the wall and sighed. "So, do you think Silva will show us pictures of what they found after he's done, or will he make us wait until morning?" Connant asked him curiously. "I guess it depends on how many pictures he took," Atkins said as he resumed probing the burnt corpse of the man who, unbeknownst to him, was the dog handler of Outpost Thirty-One.

* * *

**Day 04**

* * *

"So, there's nothing?" Barclay asked Atkins as he leaned against the wall of the infirmary, watching the two corpses out of the corner of his eye. "Nope. No signs of anything out of the ordinary, for a burnt corpse that is," Atkins said. "And... any idea how that man lost his arms yet?" Barclay asked him. "None. Being burnt meant that the wounds are cauterized. I'm afraid that there isn't much I can do at this point. No identification on either of them, either. We'd have to go back to Thirty-One and see if we can find some kind of roster and maybe some picture to tell us who was who," Atkins replied.

"Well, I was hoping to fly back out to the ship today," Barclay said. "I think you can go a day without flying," Atkins said. "Van Wall is about ready to have an aneurysm," he added with a snicker. "I'll keep that in mind. This time, I'm having both helicopters head out to the ship. There's something we wanna bring back with us this time," Barclay said. "Oh? And what would that be?" Atkins asked him.

"Has Silva finished developing his pictures yet?" Barclay asked him. "Yeah. He's busy making copies in the dark room again," Atkins replied. "So he's done, but he still isn't satisfied?" Barclay asked him. "He wants to have... a contingency plan, in case something happens to the first set of pictures," Atkins explained. "Huh. Okay then," Barclay said.

"So, do you want me to come along with you on this trip?" Atkins asked him. "I think I'll take Thorne with me," Barclay said. "Mm-Hm. Now, you still didn't answer my question earlier. What exactly are you guys hoping to bring back with you from the ship?" Atkins asked him.

"Yes, please tell us," Hendry said as he walked into the room. "Well, I was hoping to wait for Silva to have those pictures ready, but... we found an alien. Two, actually. One is intact, but stuck in some kind of frozen capsule. The other one... is intact, but burned like some of these corpses. It has a metal pipe sticking through it, though, so we'll need Dutton and Ralsen to bring along some equipment to cut it out," Barclay explained.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Atkins asked him. "I'm pretty sure that it's dead. It's been exposed to our planet's atmosphere for over a week at least. If it were alive, I think it would've gotten out of there by now," Barclay responded. "I'm going with you," Hendry said. "So... seven of you are going along? Will there be any room in the helicopters for these things?" Atkins asked them.

"I guess I'll leave Ralsen behind. Besides, I need him and Connant to clear out one of the other storage rooms," Barclay said. "What for?" Hendry asked him. "For the bodies. We need to store them some place that's cold so they don't decompose too badly and stink up the joint before Spring," Barclay said. "Why Connant?" Hendry asked him. "I figure he's responsible enough to know how to store cadavers properly," Barclay replied.

"And you don't trust _me_ to do it for some reason?" Atkins asked him. "Actually, I want you to help them. Keep the frost-bitten bodies away from the burned ones," Barclay said. "Yippee," Atkins muttered sarcastically. "We need to keep those bodies on ice, or in decent condition, until Spring arrives and we can have someone come and get them. I want to keep everything related to the investigation together for the authorities when they arrive," Barclay said.

"We _are_ the authorities out here," Hendry said, pointing at Barclay and himself. "Only for Hawke Station. I meant other authorities, like Interpol or the World Health Organization," Barclay said. "Besides, we may need to give information to them anyway, especially once we bring back those... aliens," Barclay said.

"Yeah, and where exactly are you going to put them after you bring them back?" Atkins asked him with a raised eyebrow. "He's got a point," Hendry said after a few seconds of consideration. "I guess I hadn't planned that far ahead," Barclay admitted. "Do you even know if removing them from that ship is a good idea? You said one of them was frozen in a capsule, right? What that thing is carrying some kind of disease with it? If it thaws out here, we may have no way of protecting ourselves from something like that," Atkins said.

"Then we'll just bring back the burned one. That one shouldn't be too dangerous," Barclay replied thoughtfully. Atkins sucked in a deep breath before letting in back out. "Whatever you say, Bar. Whatever you say," Atkins said.

**The Rec Room, Later...**

"This is real?" Sanchez asked as he picked up and examined a picture of the lizard alien. "The genuine article," Silva replied with a smile. "How long did you say that ship had been there?" Crenna asked Silva. "Well, judging from the back-scatter effect seen around the crater, I'd say that it's at least a hundred-thousand years old," Silva said. "That thing's been frozen in there for a hundred-thousand _years!?_ " Sanchez asked in disbelief.

"Yup," Silva replied. "Are you going back out today?" Stiles asked him as he examined a few pictures of the ship's interior corridors. "Yeah. We're gonna try to explore the rest of the ship and maybe bring a few things back, like scraps of metal or pieces of equipment," Silva said.

"Hey, what's this burned thing in this photo?" Lambert asked. "That's one of the other aliens we found," Silva replied. "Burnt, frozen, and impaled with a pipe. Poor bastard," Lambert commented. "You aren't gonna try bringing one of those aliens back here, are you?" Pomroy asked as he examined two pictures of the lizard-alien and the burnt creature.

"Well... maybe," Silva said. "Just let me know if it smells. I don't want the dogs acting up because of this," Pomroy said. "Hey, just how big is that lizard thing anyway?" Kinner asked as he looked at a photo. "Aw, shit. We forgot to take pictures of ourselves next to them for size comparison," Silva cursed.

"Well, I guess you'll have to do that today, won't you?" Crenna asked him. "Just make sure that you get examined by Atkins after coming back. I don't you guys bringing back something that could affect the plants in the green house," Walters said as he examined the pictures. "Uh, Dillon? You probably should have said something about that last night," Silva said.

It took Walters a minute to realize what Silva was saying. "You've been in the green house?" Walters asked him seriously. "No. I just figured you should have said something sooner, considering that if we caught anything, we'd all have been exposed by now, including you," Silva explained. Walters sat down on a chair and held his head in his hands, groaning in frustration.

"All of my work," Walters groaned. "Uh, maybe you should go see Atkins," Crenna suggested to the botanist. Walters nodded his head and stood up, returning the photos to the coffee table before leaving the rec room. "Crybaby," Ralsen muttered as he watched Walters walking away.

A minute later, Barclay and Hendry entered the rec room. "Harvey, get your stuff ready. We're leaving in an hour," Barclay said. "Say what? I thought you were gonna get Van Wall to fly you out there," Harvey said. "We're taking both helicopters this time," Barclay said.

"Hey, now wait a minute! Bar, we can't keep flying these long distances back and forth each day," Harvey protested. "We're gonna use up our fuel before too long if we keep this up. I mean, what if we have an emergency and we need to fly out somewhere? With all of the flying we've been doing this week, I doubt we'll have any left for either chopper before the week's over," he ranted.

"We've got plenty of spare fuel," Barclay said. "Besides, the second helicopter is larger than the primary one, so it can hold what we plan to bring back without much trouble," he added. "Come on, Bar! Haven't we flown out in the cold enough times this week!?" Harvey asked him angrily. "Van Wall has flown out more times than you have, Harvey. You've only flown once this week," Barclay retorted.

" _Fine_ ," Harvey huffed in defeat. "Get ready to move in an hour, and make sure to pack spare fuel for the helicopter. Silva, have you seen Carrington this morning?" Barclay asked. "He's already out with Van Wall getting the other helicopter ready," Silva said. "That'll make things easier," Barclay commented. "Where's Dutton?" Barclay asked. "He's in the bathroom," Ralsen said.

"Alright. Ralsen, I need you to help Connant and Atkins clear out some storage space for those bodies. I want them kept someplace cold," Barclay said. Ralsen rolled his eyes in response before letting out a sigh. "Sure. I'll get right on that," Ralsen said reluctantly before walking out of the room. "I'll see the rest of you later," Barclay said before leaving the room.

* * *

**At The Ship, Around Noon...**

"Hey, do you see that?" Barclay asked as Van Wall began descending the helicopter. "Looks like we've got company," Van Wall said. In the back of the helicopter, Hendry frowned. "What do you boys mean by that? What kind of company?" Hendry asked through the small space between the divider of the cockpit and the passenger area.

"Red company," Van Wall replied. Hendry's eyes widened. " _Soviets?_ The Soviets are here?" Hendry asked in shock. "Looks like it," Barclay said. A worried expression came over Hendry's face as he sank back into his seat. "Well, that's just _great_ ," Hendry muttered under his breath.

The two American helicopters soon finished their descent on the side of the crater opposite of the Soviets. Barclay waited for the rotors to stop spinning before grabbing a pair of binoculars from the floor and stepping out of the cockpit. He made his way over to the rim of the crater and looked through the binoculars at the opposite side of the crater.

There was one Soviet helicopter, a large Mil Mi-17, along with a single snowcat. "I wish we had one of those," Barclay muttered under his breath. Barclay heard boots crunching in the snow next to him before he pulled his eyes away and looked to see Hendry standing next to him.

"What do you see?" Hendry asked him. Barclay looked through the binoculars again. "I see about six guys. They've got something on a gurney, I think. They're taking it into the helicopter. Two guys are climbing back down to the ship," Barclay said as he watched the Soviets through his binoculars. "Any guns?" Hendry asked him.

"Uh... not that I can see. We've told you, Hendry, they're _scientists_ , not soldiers," Barclay said in annoyance. "Do they see us?" Hendry asked him. "They'd have to be blind if they don't. But... wait, one guy is looking at us through his binoculars. He's waving," Barclay said before returning the wave.

"That's _real cute_ ," Hendry muttered. "Hendry, I want you to go on with the others and get inside the ship. I'm gonna have myself a little chat with the Soviets. Find out what they've taken so far," Barclay said. "You sure that's wise?" Hendry asked him. "I trust you to keep your head cool," Barclay said. "I meant you meeting them by yourself," Hendry clarified.

"I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. I need you to keep Silva and the others from hurting themselves. Make sure no one licks anything," Barclay said with a smirk. "Come on, Bar. These guys aren't schoolboys. They're scientists," Hendry replied with a smirk of his own before walking away.

**Thirty Minutes Later...**

Sitting inside the Soviet helicopter, Barclay looked in awe at the creature that the Soviet scientists had recovered from the ship. It was similar to the burnt alien that was in the pod chamber, but it was fully intact. Its head had three small eyes inside of a thin chasm in the center of the face, with a greenish blue or gray coloration about it. The limbs with long and gangly, and the numerous digits on its almost insect-like forelimbs were almost akin to tree branches.

The creature itself didn't seem to be mummified, although there was another body inside the helicopter. One of the scientists, a small man named Dimitri, opened the tarp to show Barclay the mummified corpse. "Same... species," Dimitri said in awkward English.

"I hope... you do not mind us taking what we have found," came a voice from the other side of the helicopter. Barclay turned around to see a muscular man with a trimmed beard. "And you are...?" Barclay asked him. "Boris. I am the helicopter pilot. I took my comrade Vassili and Doctor Lloyd to McMurdo a couple of days ago. You spoke with them over the radio," Boris said fluently.

"Good English," Barclay complimented him. "I must be able to communicate in many languages here on this continent. I am only good with three, though," Boris said. "Right. So, where did you guys find these... things?" Barclay asked. "In a large room, in center of the ship. The fresh one... was in a pod of some kind. We tried to take pod as well, but... it was more fragile than expected," Boris explained.

"What about the mummy?" Barclay asked him. "It was in a hallway. We found this near it," Boris said as he walked over and picked up what looked like a metal object. It resembled a gun in shape, with a handle, but with two trigger guards and small tubes sticking out of various ports and running around the back and length of it. The barrel of the weapon had a sheath over part of it, with small vents running along the interior for a very short distance.

"Looks like some kind of gun," Barclay observed. "Yes. Most likely, but We cannot find a magazine or chamber or rack for any kind of ammunition. No slot for anything to fit into either," Boris said. "Unusual. Most unusual," Dimitri said. Barclay looked back over at the alien corpses for a second, staring at the hands of the creatures in curiosity.

**Inside The Ship...**

Dutton stared at the charred corpse in front of him. "Jesus Christ," he muttered as he inspected the creature. "Just stand next to it for me," Silva said as he got his camera ready, while Thorne stepped away from the corpse before walking away to inspect the other pods in the room. "Hey, why am I the one standing next to it?" Dutton asked him. "I need a size comparison," Silva explained. "Do I really have to do this?" Dutton asked in an annoyed tone.

"Just do it," Thorne said. "It will be really helpful," Carrington said. Dutton sighed before walking over next to the burnt corpse of the alien and standing ramrod straight. "Okay, that's good," Silva said as he steadied himself. He took five pictures before giving Dutton the OK to move. "You were great. I think you have potential as a model," Thorne joked.

"So, do we start cutting now?" Dutton asked as he grabbed his tool bag and retrieved a hack-saw. "Well, let's find out how long the pipe is first," Carrington said as he walked around and inspected the corpse. "Looks to be a good foot sticking out of the it. This pillar behind the pod, though; it's a problem," Carrington said. Looking at the pillar, he aimed his flashlight up and down before noticing a small panel and a broken screen of some kind.

"Fascinating," Carrington muttered to himself. Dutton walked over to his side and looked at the pillar. "Let's see if this thing is melted into the pod," Dutton said as he shone his flashlight into the pod. He reached forward and pressed a gloved hand against the back of the creature, slowly pushing it aside as he ran his hand down the back of the creature until he finally felt the hardness of the metal pipe.

"Yeah, this is where I should start," Dutton said as he steadied his saw between the corpse and the back of the pod. "This may take a while," Dutton said as he put on a pair of goggles. "Carrington, keep that light shining on this thing while I cut it," Dutton said. "Right," Carrington said with a nod as he stepped forward and looked over Dutton's shoulder. "And, uh, don't stand too close. I need to be able to move my arm," Dutton said as he turned his head to glance at Carrington.

"Oh! Sorry about that," Carrington apologized as he backed up a bit. "Thank you," Dutton said before getting to work. "I just hope this damn blade still cuts in this kind of cold," Dutton muttered under his breath as he started moving the saw back and forth.

**Meanwhile, On The Surface Of The Ship...**

Boris pointed to a large vent in the ship's hull. "This... is where Aleksey fell down. It leads to... a big cavern inside," Boris explained to Barclay. The two men knelt down next to the opening of the vent. Dr. Lloyd's tale once again made its way to his head as he remembered her explanation for how she and Carter had gotten separated from each other while searching for the allegedly infected Sander.

"I have a question for you," Barclay said. "Yes?" Boris asked him. "How much of the ship have you guys explored so far?" Barclay asked. "I am... not entirely sure. Why do you ask?" Boris replied. "I noticed that some parts of the ship had different temperatures yesterday while exploring the inside," Barclay said. "So... you have already made claim to it?" Boris asked him.

"Not quite. It's connected to the incident at the Norwegian camp, so for the time being... we still need to keep this to ourselves. At least... for now. Until we can get everything sorted properly," Barclay explained. Boris nodded his head. "I understand. I will explain this to Pavlo, the station leader," Boris said. "Thank you," Barclay said with a nod.

"But, back to my question. Have you seen any areas with different temperatures than others inside the ship?" Barclay asked Boris. "Perhaps it is best that we show you instead," Boris said. He whistled over at another man standing nearby. "[ _Petro! Is Pavlo still in the chamber!?_ ]" Boris asked the man in his native Russian tongue.

"[ _Yes! He's still down there! Are we taking the American down to meet him?_ ]" Petro asked him as he walked over. "[ _Yes. We are going to show him what we have found. His people are already inside the ship, collecting things that they have already found on their own. He wants to know about the parts of the ship that are different from the rest,_ ]" Boris explained.

Petro nodded his head in understanding. He turned around and motioned for Boris and Barclay to follow him over to another entrance that had been found. "[ _Stay close. There is still much ice around here. You don't want to break your back,_ ]" Petro said. "What did he say?" Barclay asked Boris. "He said to watch out for ice. It is very slippery," Boris relayed.

Barclay nodded his head and followed the two men closely as they made their way into the entrance hatch and followed a path that Barclay and the others had not taken the previous day. "[ _How much have the Americans already claimed for themselves?_ ]" Petro asked Boris as Barclay followed them through the corridors and ramps of the vessel. "[ _They were here yesterday, so they have found much more than us. However... they are using the ship to investigate the destruction of the Norwegian research station. The American scientist we found told them about the crater and the ship on the radio,_ ]" Boris explained.

"[ _Pavlo will not be happy to hear that. He wants to claim the ship for the pride of the Union. He will be very pissed at learning that the Americans have already claimed it for themselves. There's no doubt that they'll claim it after their investigation is over,_ ]" Petro said. "[ _I don't care about Pavlo's happiness. There are three countries involved in this now, and many people are dead or missing. We must tread these waters carefully. Although, I don't believe that the Americans will object to us taking the remains that we have already found on our own, since they did not enter this part of the ship yesterday,_ ]" Boris replied.

Eventually, the trio made their way into a large round chamber, where a short man with an almost-stereotypical Soviet winter clothing set was busy taking pictures of the interior of the room. "Pavlo!" Petro called out. The short man turned around and looked at the trio quizzically. "[ _Borya? Petya?_ ]" Pavlo asked them in Russian.

"[ _Who is this man?_ ]" Pavlo asked them. "[ _This is the leader of the American team that is investigating the incident at the Norwegian camp. Because the ship is connected to the events at Thule Station, he wishes to have us keep quiet about it until his investigation is complete,_ ]" Boris explained. Pavlo frowned and furrowed his brows as he looked at Barclay.

"[ _We are not giving back what we have found through our own efforts. Tell the Americans that we will cooperate so long as we are given credit for our own discoveries as well,_ ]" Pavlo said after a minute of silence. Boris nodded his head and turned to face Barclay. "He says that we will cooperate so long as we are given credit for our efforts. And we will not be handing over the things we have found," Boris explained.

"That's fine with me. But... the Norwegians technically found this ship first. I don't care about claiming it. I just want things kept quiet until I've completed my investigation. If you want to talk about fame and credit, you guys will have to speak to the Norwegians," Barclay said. Boris nodded his head in understanding before turning to face Pavlo again.

"[ _Captain Barclay agrees with your terms. He says, however, that the Norwegians found the ship before us or the Americans. Therefore, we must negotiate with the Norwegians for our claims. Captain Barclay only wishes to learn the truth about what happened at the Norwegian research station that the American woman fled from,_ ]" Boris explained. Pavlo nodded his head as he processed this information. He looked over at Barclay before extending his gloved right hand.

Barclay looked at him before extending his open and shaking them. "I appreciate your cooperation," Barclay said hesitantly. He wasn't sure if Pavlo understood him. "[ _Captain Barclay is glad that we have reached an agreement,_ ]" Boris said to Pavlo. Pavlo nodded his head. "[ _Tell him... I hope he finds closure when completing his investigation,_ ]" Pavlo said.

Boris turned to Barclay. "He says that he hopes that you find closure when you complete your investigation," Boris translated. "Tell him I said thanks," Barclay said. Boris nodded and relayed the gratitude to Pavlo. "So, about the different room temperatures?" Barclay asked him. "Oh, yes. I forgot about that," Boris said before showing Barclay around the room.

* * *

**Hawke Station, Later That Evening...**

Everyone gathered in the lab to watch as the large burnt corpse of the alien was laid onto one of the tables, with a tarp underneath it. "Geez, you weren't kidding," Stiles said in awe as he looked at the corpse. Ralsen and Lambert both looked at the body with interest, while Thorne merely stood back, having already seen the creature while inside the ship.

"Is this all that you guys could find?" Connant asked. "There were two more corpses of similar creatures, but the Soviets had already gotten a hold of them by the time we'd arrived," Barclay explained as he leaned against the wall. He was wearing just his pants and a gray long-sleeved shirt now, with an A-shirt underneath for a small layer of added warmth.

"Is it supposed to have a pipe sticking out of it?" Crenna asked. "Just let it thaw out a bit and we can remove it later," Dutton said. "My arms are already hurting too much from what I did today," he said under his breath as he glared at the burnt alien corpse.

"So... is that its mouth?" Pomroy asked as he pointed to the malformed jaws on the side of the thing's head. "I'm not sure," Barclay said tiredly. Having finally gotten a look at two other members of the alien species, and having convinced the Soviets to allow Silva the chance to take several pictures of them, Barclay was now having to give more consideration to both Kate Lloyd and R.J. MacReady's stories about the shape-shifter.

"You're not sure?" Atkins asked him skeptically. "Neither of the other ones looked like this," Barclay said. "Were they burned to a crisp as well?" Caldwell asked as he looked at the corpse. "No. One was mummified, and the other... was in good condition. The Soviets found it in some kind of pod. It must have been protected from the elements well enough," Barclay said. "Did Silva take any pictures?" Ralsen asked.

"Yeah. I convinced the Soviets to let Silva go nuts," Barclay replied tiredly. He was still tired from all of the yelling he had done with Hendry on the flight back. "Damn," Sanchez said as he looked at the alien. "This guy had a whole metal pipe shoved through him?" Sanchez asked.

"Well... we _think_ it's metal," Carrington said. "I'd really like to take some samples of the pipe and examine them now that we have the tools available," he added eagerly. "Go right ahead, Stewart," Barclay said with a sigh. "Just don't stay up too late. I want this thing examined by tomorrow afternoon. Stick it in a cooler and let it thaw out a bit if it makes things easier, but don't let it stink up the place," he added.

"Hey... where's Hendry?" Caldwell asked as he looked around. "The old fart's holed up in his room right now. He's still pissed at me for deciding to play nice with the reds today," Barclay explained. "What a whiner," Ralsen commented. "Speaking of whiners, did you and Lambert get those other bodies moved around like I'd asked earlier?" Barclay asked Ralsen.

"Yeah, we got 'em moved. We got the storage rooms cleared and everything," Ralsen replied with a hint of annoyance. "Good job. How long did it take you?" Barclay asked him. "A couple hours. We had a lot of stuff to move around," Ralsen replied. "I'll say. I could hear them _whining_ most of the time," Caldwell snickered.

Ralsen looked over at Caldwell before flipping him the bird. "Eat it, Bart," Ralsen said with a smirk. Barclay sighed and shook his head. "Well, I'm gonna-wait... where's Walters?" he asked as he scanned the room. "In the greenhouse, as usual. He's been in there almost all day," Stiles said. "Is he still fretting over his plants?" Barclay asked.

"Probably. Those plants are like his _children_ ," Stiles said. "I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out that he actually _is one_ ," Dutton commented. "Well, I'm gonna go check on the dogs and make sure they're settled for the night," Pomroy said before walking out of the room. "If you guys don't need me anymore, I'm gonna go get something to eat and then hit the hay. I'll see all of you in the morning," Barclay said as he followed Pomroy out of the lab.

Soon, the lab was emptied, with the exception of Carrington, Connant, Atkins, and Thorne, all of whom were preparing the lab for the next day's work. Carrington, though, had already begun trying to get samples of the pipe for him to study at his own leisure. "Can't you wait until this thing is thawed out a little more?" Connant asked him. "I could, but I really don't want to," Carrington replied with a grin.

Atkins took off his gloves and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. "Well, I'm gonna head on over to the kitchen for some leftovers. See you fellas tomorrow," Atkins said after he dried his hands with a towel. Thorne looked at the alien corpse before getting off of his stool and walking after Atkins.

Twenty minutes later, after finishing some notes, Connant rubbed his eyes. "Well, I'll see you later, Carrington." Carrington nodded his head as he used tweezers and a scalpel to collect some samples of the burnt alien flesh to put into a petri dish. "Mm-hm. See you later," Carrington said in response as Connant washed his hands before leaving the lab. "Don't forget to turn the lights off when you're through. And, uh, make sure to cover that thing up when you're done," Connant said after pausing at the doorway to the hallway.

"I'll remember," Carrington said with a nod, keeping his eyes focused on his task. Connant stared at Carrington for a few seconds before turning around and leaving. Now Carrington was alone with his specimen, and no one else was there to bother him. "Peace at last," he said to himself as he began a close inspection of the body's charred remains. "I only wish we had the more intact ones that the Soviets found," Carrington muttered in frustration.

**Two Hours Later...**

A lone figure moved silently through the dark and mostly empty halls of Hawke Station. As they passed open doors and lit hallways, they remained quiet and alert. Stopping by corners when hearing multiple voices and foot steps, they waited patiently, quietly, and determinedly before resuming their search. Eventually, they came across an open door with a lone figure inside the room, their back turned as they went about their business.

Slipping into the room unseen, the figure quietly closed the door behind them. They quickly and quietly turned off the lights and silenced the room's inhabitant before any noise could be made. No one would hear anything, and no one would know what was transpiring.

* * *

**Day 05**

* * *

It was shortly after one in the morning when the dogs first noticed that something was amiss. The alpha of the pack, a large Malamute named Cole, opened his eyes after sniffing something in the air. His ears twitched as he lifted his head. There was no wind outside blowing against the building, nor were there any doors open to allow wind to blow across the walls and supplies lining the halls. The smell and shuffling sound were coming from somewhere inside the building.

Soon, the other dogs began to stir. Hoskins, a large Siberian Husky, looked at Cole and sniffed the air. Jake and Vince, two other Malamutes, both perked their heads up as they sniffed the air, with Sykes standing up and pacing around the kennel. Soon, all eight dogs were sniffing the air and sending confused and fearful glances around their enclosure as they heard the sound of a door opening.

Foot steps echoed through the walkway as the quiet figure in the dark slowly approached the kennel. One dog, a Siberian Husky named Morris, stepped hesitently towards the front of the cage as the figure entered the dogs' field of view. Morris sniffed the air, not recognizing the scent of whoever was now in front of him. He quickly went forward to sniff, only to back up as an odd sound and newer scent hit the air. Morris and the other dogs soon became alarmed as the figure's scent underwent a radical change before they moved an arm towards the lock on the door.

The dogs began to snarl and bark at the intruder. Sykes and Vince both began to howl in alarm, hoping to alert their handler as the figure in front of them began to open the door to the cage. The dogs failed to hear the new set of footsteps in the distance as their barks and snarls filled the air.

"Hey! What's going on in here!?" asked Reynolds as he entered the kennel hall. He had a tray of scraps in his hands for the dogs, as he would sometimes enter the kennel when he couldn't sleep and would give food to the dogs. Currently, however, the dogs' barking had caught his attention.

Turning on the lights, Reynolds quickly marched through the hall and turned the corner before pausing. "Hey, who the... hell?" Reynolds asked as he heard the strange noises coming from the figure standing in front of him. They were wearing full snow gear, with a parka that was closed, preventing Reynolds from seeing their face.

Hearing another sound, this one wet, Reynolds glanced down at the floor and saw the dark-colored liquid dripping from under the figure's clothes. His mouth opened in disgust and alarm before he looked back up and saw the figure's jacket shaking, with the zipper slowly being pulled down from inside. "The fuck?" Reynolds asked as he took one step back.

The dogs continued barking and howling as the figure's winter jacket was quickly shredded, revealing the horrid figure underneath as their flesh rippled and bled with tendrils and tentacles pushing out. "My... _god_ ," Reynolds whispered in shock, unable to move as he tried to process the sight in front of him. The figure's face was covered in blood as their head swelled in areas and deflated in others, with sickening crunching and cracking noises being covered by the continued barks and howls of the dogs.

**The Dorms...**

Clad in just his boxers and an A-shirt, Barclay yawned as he stepped out of the bathroom and back into the hallway of the dormitory. "Back to bed," he said to himself tiredly, before the faint sound of the dogs' barking and howling got his attention. He turned his head and looked down the hallway, seeing that the main hallway light was turned on. After the Summer crew had left, over half of the dorm rooms in the stationed had become empty, allowing the those wintering over to move into another room at their leisure. Only half of the crew, himself included, had done so.

He looked over at the door to the room that Pomroy shared with Walters. Walking over to the door, he knocked on it. Pomroy and Walters had both declined to leave their shared room when the Summer crew had left. For Pomroy, this was because the room was the closest to the end of the hall, and he wanted to be able to get to the dogs before anyone else if necessary. Walters was simply too lazy to move his stuff into another room for the Winter, describing it to Barclay once as "a waste of time," since he would have to move his stuff back into his old room anyway when the Summer crew returned.

"Hey... W-Walters," Barclay said tiredly before reaching down and turning the handle, opening the door as he stepped into the room and flicked on the lights. "Hey, where's Pom..." Barclay trailed off as he saw that Pomroy was sitting up in his bed and covering his eyes. "Hey, man. What the hell?" Walters asked from his bed.

"Pomroy, your dogs are having a fit. Go do something about it," Barclay said with a yawn as he rubbed his temples. "Alright, alright. Don't yell," Pomroy said as he slowly got up and started getting dressed. He was currently only in his underwear.

"Just let me-" _**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGHHHH!**_

Everyone's eyes widened in shock as they turned their heads to face the doorway as the scream echoed through the halls. "What the hell?" Walters asked. "Someone's in the kennel!" Pomroy said worriedly as he grabbed his pants and shirt. "Pomroy, grab your vet kit; Walters, just go with him. You two get your asses over to the kennel. I'll get everyone else ready," Barclay said before he dashed out of the room.

In the hallway, two other doors had opened, with Crenna and Stiles both stepping out into the hallway in their underwear. "Bar? Bar, what's going on?" Crenna asked. "I thought I heard a scream," he added. "Someone's in the kennel with the dogs," Barclay said before rushing over to his room and grabbing his clothes, quickly getting himself dressed in his usual slate gray cargo pants and olive-colored shirt.

Grabbing his gun holster, Barclay quickly attached it to his waist before grabbing his disassembled Colt M1911, reassembling it, and then holstering it. He then returned to the hallway, where he could see a few other doors opening. "Hey, what's going on?" Caldwell asked in annoyance. Ralsen and Harvey both entered the hallway groggily, looking around in confusion. "Dude, what the hell's with all the yelling?" Ralsen asked tiredly.

"Hey, listen," Sanchez said. Everyone else was still conversing. "Wait, what?" Silva asked Crenna. Hendry soon exited his room and glared at everyone, noticing Barclay shaking his head in anger. "Bar, what the _hell is going on!?_ " Hendry angrily asked him. "Someone's in the Kennel, and I just heard a loud scream," Barclay replied as he pushed through the group to meet up with Pomroy and Walters, who was just getting his jacket on. Pomroy had already grabbed one of his spare veterinarian kits.

Barclay looked over and saw Atkins and Thorne exit their shared room. "Atkins, Thorne; both of you get dressed and get a First Aid kit," Barclay ordered. "Wait, what? What the hell's going on?" Thorne asked him tiredly. "Someone's been hurt in the kennel," Barclay explained, just as he noticed Connant and Carrington exiting their rooms. Soon, everyone could bee seen and accounted for in the hallway. Everyone, that was, except Anthony Reynolds.

"Where's Tony?" Hendry asked as he noticed the secondary cook's absence. "The kennel," Barclay said in confirmation. He quickly pushed through the group and ran through the hallway, catching up with Pomroy and Walters as they made their way to the kennel, where the dogs could still be heard barking and howling.

Hendry looked around at the other men, all of whom were still in various states of undress and confusion. "Get your clothes on and get after them! The man could be hurt!" Hendry ordered before he retreated to his room and took his own orders. Atkins quickly ran back into his room, dragging Thorne with him before he started getting dressed.

**Back At The Kennel, A Few Minutes Later...**

Sykes and Colin snarled and barked at the horrifying sight in front of them, while most of the other dogs were backing away and whimpering in fear or snarling defensively. Currently, the intruder had sprouted dozens of tendrils and worm-like tentacles, all covered in slime and blood. Some of them had attached themselves to the railings and support beams of the hall and outside of the kennel, while others had enveloped Reynolds, who could no longer scream as several tendrils had forced themselves down his throat and around his neck. The only thing standing between the dogs and the monster was their cage, and the tentacles were currently attempting to slip through the holes in said cage.

Sykes growled and barked at one such worm-like tendril as it slithered through the chain-link cage wall. Soon, several more followed, causing the dogs to realize that they were now cornered. Some of them continued snarling and barking, while others howled for help. A strange and terrible cry, somehow both organic and mechanical in nature, soon erupted from the abomination outside the kennel, and the dogs all looked at it in fear before barking and howling at it.

As more tentacles slithered through the cage wires, Colin charged forward and bit down on one of them, causing the beast to cry briefly, before Colin tugged and ripped the tentacle away from the rest, throwing it onto the floor. Sykes and Hoskins soon joined Colin in attacking the invading tentacles, while the other dogs watched them, still howling and whimpering in fear before the sound of heavy footsteps and breathing entered the kennel hallway. Some of the dogs looked over in jubilation as they heard the voice of their handler.

Outside the cage, Pomroy stopped running and grabbed Walters by the coat to stop him from charging forward. Both men stared in wide-eyed horror at what lay before them. "Pomroy, what's Reynolds' status!?" Barclay asked as he ran into the hall outside the kennel. "Pomroy, did you hear... me?" Barclay asked as he soon reached the two men. His jaw dropped in shock and bewilderment as he saw the mass of flesh, blood, and arachnid legs that had grabbed the walls.

The mass seemed to pulsate while the tentacles reached around the hall, forcing Barclay to finally see what had become of Reynolds. "R-Reynolds?" Barclay asked with a gasp. Reynolds' shirt was lying on the floor, bloodied and tattered, while numerous blood and goo-covered tentacles surrounded him. Some of them had melded into his left eye and his shoulders, while others had forced themselves down his throat.

Reynolds' right eye was wide and darting around, almost as though he were still conscious and aware of what was happening. His left arm and hand were outstretched, grabbing onto a coat hook attached to the wall. Tentacles had covered the arm and had fused to his hand. Veins would be seen running between the two bodies where they merged.

At the center of the Thing's mass was a split-open head, with the upper and lower jaws split apart like flower petals as three brown antennae-like stalks with green eyes looked around. The ears on the upper portions of the head that had fallen like petals had formed bridges of flesh to the shoulder region, with a lone set of earrings visible in on of them. In the center of the torso was an open mouth, with sharp teeth and mandibles visible, while the power torso region was simply a pulsating mass of flesh, blood, ooze, tentacles, tendrils, hair, and bits of bone. Near the edge of what had been a foot, a set of lips were opening and closing on their own, while an eye on the upper torso glanced around the room excitedly.

"Walters... go tell Dutton to get a flamethrower," Barclay said. "W-What!?" Walters asked him. "I said GO! DO IT!" Barclay barked at him forcefully. Walters quickly nodded his head and passed around Barclay to get back to the main hallway. Barclay looked over at the door to the kennel. It was still closed.

"Pom, stay back. The kennel door is still closed. The dogs look like they're okay, so-" "What's going on!?" asked Lambert as he rushed into the hall. "Reynolds! Reynolds, what the hell did you do!?" Stiles could be heard asking as he and the others entered the hallway.

"Everyone stay back. Stay back!" Barclay shouted as he turned around to see the others coming up behind him and Pomroy. "Reynolds, what... the _fuck?_ " Sanchez asked as he saw the fusion of Reynolds and the Other. "Alright, I'm here! Just stand back and let me..." Atkins' words died in his throat as he rounded the corner and saw what was in the hall.

Looking at Reynolds, Atkins stepped back in horror as he saw the man's left arm soon split open as bloody and sinewy strings shot out and up at the ceiling. Barclay narrowed his eyes at the abomination. "Doc, stand back," Barclay said as he unholstered his pistol. He checked the chamber and switched off the safety before taking aim. "Guys, cover your ears!" Barclay shouted above the cacophony of the dogs barking and the strange cry that came out of the Thing.

Barclay aimed at the center mass and fired. Green puss spat out as the Thing took damage from each bullet. The horror screamed in pain and began pulling itself up with its arachnid-like limbs off of the floor. "Shit!" Barclay swore as he reloaded his gun. He then heard a guttural, strangled gurgling noise and looked over at Reynolds, whose head had fused solid with the tentacles, but was now starting to split open from the side and reveal several teeth.

Barclay quickly aimed and fired at the man's head, hoping to take out whatever was left of him as quickly as possible. A tentacle shot out of Reynolds' chest and whipped at Barclay, causing him to fall back in surprise, knocking Pomroy over onto the floor and sending Atkins falling back into the others behind them.

"Jesus Christ!" Ralsen exclaimed as he got a better look at the Thing in the hallway. "What the fuck is that!?" Stiles asked in fear and confusion. "Where the hell is Dutton with that flamethrower!?" Barclay asked in frustration as he dove behind a crate on the floor when another tentacle whipped at him. Pomroy quickly crawled over behind another crate and looked over into the hallway.

"The dogs. The dogs! Bar, what about the dogs!?" Pomroy asked. "The cage is still intact! They should be okay for now!" Barclay shouted over at him. The dogs were still barking and howling. Soon, one of those howls turned from one for help, to one of pain. "The hell they are!" Pomroy hissed in anger and fear for his dogs.

"Pom, stay where you are!" Barclay yelled as another tentacle struck the floor near him. "You go out there, you're a dead man!" "But I can't leave them!" Pomroy shot back. "Stand aside, stand aside!" came the voice of Dutton as the muscular man made his way through the hall. "Okay, what's this about a mon...ster?" Dutton asked in awe as he saw the Thing. "Holy shit," Dutton muttered as he became paralyzed.

"Dutton, burn the fucker!" Barclay exclaimed. Dutton was frozen in his spot. "Goddammit, Dutton! Fucking burn it!" Barclay shouted at him. Dutton finally snapped out of his reverie as he aimed the flamethrower up at the hideous creature on the wall. "Just don't hit the dogs!" Pomroy cried out. "I won't," Dutton said before sending a stream of fire out of the nozzle of the flamethrower.

The hallway was lit up, and the dogs went quiet at seeing the display. The Thing let loose a terrible cry of anger and anguish before Dutton sent another stream of fire at it, causing it to fall to the floor and crash. "Let it burn a little! Let it burn a little!" Barclay shouted as he saw Caldwell grab a fire extinguisher sitting on the floor.

"We can't let it keep! It'll set the whole place on fire!" Pomroy exclaimed as he peeked out from behind his crate. "Just wait a little longer!" Barclay pleaded. Another minute went by before finally gave the okay for Caldwell to move in. Crenna soon followed with a towel in his hands as he whipped it at spots of smoke and flame on the wall where Caldwell was missing.

After five minutes, the smoke had cleared. Stepping forward, the men of Hawke Station examined the burned remains of what had once been a man and a strange and horrific being from another world. The dogs whimpered and whined in fear and eagerness at seeing Pomroy when he unlocked the cage and went inside to examine them, pointedly ignoring the remains of Reynolds.

When he was done, he turned around and saw that everyone else had surrounded the remains, with looks of sorrow, fear, confusion, and insecurity upon their faces. Finally bothering to look at the remains of his friend, Pomroy let out a breath and reached over to pet one of his dogs for comfort. The men of Hawke Station remained silent for a period, until it came time for them to begin covering and moving the remains to the lab, where they would stay as everyone went back to their rooms and tried to fool themselves into believing that they had simply had a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: And so the terror begins again. Please let me know what you think of the story so far in your reviews.


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